


Don't Call me Kid

by ALimeToRemember



Series: Illicit Affairs [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: AU, Action, Angst, Arrow (TV 2012) Season 2, Drama, F/F, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:35:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26780749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALimeToRemember/pseuds/ALimeToRemember
Summary: Hey y'all - it's been two months, and I'm still obsessed with the Folklore album. I immediately had a few ideas for Avalance stories after listening to Illicit Affairs, and since I couldn't decide which I liked better, you're getting both! They do not need to be read in order.Part 1 is an AU take on Arrow Season 2 focusing on Sara's return and Slade Wilson's vendetta. Oh yea, Ava and Laurel are married, and Ava secretly works as part of Team Arrow...so imagine how that's gonna go down with Sara. No Tommy or Roy - any other deviations from Season 2 are explained.
Relationships: Laurel Lance/Ava Sharpe, Sara Lance/Ava Sharpe
Series: Illicit Affairs [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952674
Comments: 31
Kudos: 79





	1. The Hope of it All

Clad in black leather, a platinum blonde wig, and sporting a bo staff, a masked woman observes the evening’s events unfold, her stealthy movements concealing her from all. 

“Wasn’t our country founded on a brand of vigilantism, Mr. Donner?” asks the mayor, clearly trying to get a reaction out of the other man. The two men, along with all of Starling City’s finest, are gathered at a swanky downtown hotel at a charity event to raise money for victims of the explosions in The Glades, which rocked the city to its core, not three months prior. Smooth jazz is playing, and the drinks are flowing as it’s obvious by the party’s upbeat tone that no one in the room has lost any sleep over the city’s recent tragedy, with the exception of the occasional worry about the impact to their investment portfolio. “The revolutionaries at the Boston Tea Party were certainly choosing justice over law.” The mayor’s tone is purposefully challenging, almost as if he admires the city’s vigilantes.

“I would hardly compare our founding fathers to The Hood, Mr. Mayor,” ADA Donner interjects, showing no love lost for the vigilantes that have set up camp in Starling City. “Or these twisted copy cats who have risen in his wake--”

“Ms. Lance! Agent Sharpe!” the Mayor greets as Laurel and Ava stride down the stairs to join the two men. Clad in a sleeveless red dress, Laurel grabs Ava’s hand to lead her down from the landing and can’t help but admire how beautiful her wife looks. Ava for her part is spending a rare occasion out of her standard issue bureau suit, wearing a sleeveless form-fitting black dress with a slit spanning nearly the full length of her long, toned legs. The evening had gotten off to a bit of a rocky start for the couple, like most evenings since The Glades explosion. “What do you think about vigilantes?” the mayor asks coyly.

“I’d be foolish to disagree with my new boss,” Laurel offers as she approaches them, her hand still firmly grasping Ava’s as this is the first time in months the pair have attended a public event like this. 

“I knew I was smart to hire you,” Adam quips smugly.

“I’d heard you joined the district attorney’s office,” the mayor says.

“It was time for a change,” Laurel says quietly as Ava gently squeezes her hand, a small gesture of support she can lend to Laurel.

“Still, I’m sorry that you and your colleagues at the CNRI won’t be opening your doors again,” offers the mayor, trying to sound sympathetic, but knowing how painful memories of the explosions are for Laurel, it comes across to Ava like a threat.

“There were no doors left to be opened,” Laurel corrects, sadness evident in her tone as her hand stiffens in Ava’s grasp.

Ava narrows her eyes at the mayor, unappreciative of his rehashing of one of the most painful nights in her wife’s life. Sensing Ava’s stare, the mayor turns to her and asks innocently, “Agent Sharpe, has the FBI had any luck in apprehending Mr. Merlyn?”

Ava takes a step forward, forcing him to tilt his head up to meet her eyes. “You know I can’t discuss active bureau investigations with you, sir,” she says through a forced smile. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, the mayor,” an announcer’s voice can be heard in the background.

“They’re playing my song,” the mayor offers quickly as he heads to the podium. “Good evening. It has been a very difficult year for Starling City. Our losses have been incalculable, our grief unimaginable. But with the generous donations you people are making tonight, we will come back from this tragedy--”

“YOU. HAVE. FAILED. THIS. CITY. MR. MAYOR!” a disguised voice reminiscent of The Hood shouts. “The Glades descended into hell on your watch!” The booming voice continues as everyone looks around, desperately trying to identify its source. “You swore to protect all the citizens of Starling, not just the wealthy!”

“I’m very sorry about this folks,” the mayor tries to calm the tense crowd with false bravado. “We’ll have this sorted out in a minute.” A hail of gunfire surrounds the mayor, and he collapses dead as several hooded gunmen make their way into the main ballroom, quickly overwhelming the Starling City PD.

Ava tries to maneuver Laurel behind her as the gunmen make their way over to them “Mr. District Attorney,” one of them sneers as he approaches the trio. Before he can attack them, Ava punches the gunman and grabs his pistol as he falls to the floor, out cold. When she turns around to make sure Laurel is safe, she’s met with a terrifying sight. One of the other copy-cat hoods raises a gun to Laurel’s head from behind her. “Drop your weapon,” the copy-cat threatens, his voice still disguised to match The Hood’s. 

The masked figure stares intently at the situation unfolding in the lobby. She considers the consequences to leaving her hiding spot, but decides against leaving the safety of the shadows.

Ava looks at Laurel and considers their options. Normally she would feel confident about getting a clean shot off, but she would never put Laurel’s life in danger. Ava is about to lower the gun she retrieved off one of the other copy-cats when she sees Laurel wink and quickly duck, giving Ava all the opening she needs. She unloads several rounds at point blank range into the man who was a second before threatening her wife. Ava tries to usher Donner and Laurel off to the side, but their commotion has drawn attention from the other hoods who quickly confront the trio. Doing her best to shield Laurel, Ava tries to get a read on who these men are and what they are really hoping to get out of the evening as one approaches her, his gun trained on Laurel the entire time. Realizing she’s outmatched, Ava hands over the pistol as the men gesture for the three of them to kneel. “We are the hoods, and what was taken from us, we will take back,” the one closest to them ominously proclaims as he fires an empty clip at Ava’s head before turning away to leave.

Still in shock over nearly losing Laurel, Ava closes her eyes as she lets out a series of deep breaths. The next thing she knows, the hood copy-cats are gone, and the ballroom is crawling with Starling City police.

“Laurel!” a frantic Quentin Lance screams in relief at seeing her unharmed. Quentin approaches Ava and Laurel and wraps his arms around Laurel, desperate for validation that she is safe.

“I’m fine,” Laurel says with a heavy sigh as she returns her father’s embrace. 

“Excuse me, we need to get your statement ma’am,” another officer interrupts Quentin and Laurel, addressing her to tell them what she knows of the incident. 

As Laurel explains what happened to the officer, Quentin turns to Ava before joking, “I knew having another member of the law enforcement community in the family would come in handy. Thanks for taking care of Laurel,” Quentin says with a nod at Ava.

“Well, I did have some help, detective,” Ava offers as she begins to explain how Laurel helped her subdue one of their attackers.

Quentin lets out an awkward laugh. “You’ve been my daughter-in-law for two years now, Sharpe. Don’t you think it’s about time you called me Quentin?” Ava smiles, clearly uncomfortable with that level of informality. “After what happened with Sara and then Dinah, I,” Quentin pauses, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by the memory of Dinah’s death during The Glades explosion, “Laurel’s all I have left.”

“I promised you I wouldn’t let anything happen to her,” Ava reassures him. “I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”

Quentin nods, thankful Laurel has found Ava. After news of Oliver and Sara’s affair and Sara’s death on  _ The Gambit _ he was afraid of how his oldest daughter would move forward with her life. It wasn’t long after that, that she met Ava, and the two had been inseparable ever since. “Any idea what those hoods were doing here?”

Ava lets out a sigh and shakes her head before answering, “This is completely against their M.O. of inciting violence at peaceful protests and encouraging white supremacist demonstrations. One way or another, we’ll fix this,” Ava responds determined not to let these maniacs ruin her city.

Laurel joins the pair, wrapping Ava up in her arms. “Can we get out of here?” she asks, her voice shaky. 

Ava returns Laurel’s embrace, doing her best to soothe her wife’s tense nerves. “I thought you’d never ask, baby.” After saying goodbye to Detective Lance, Ava and Laurel walk arm-in-arm out of the hotel.

The masked woman watches the pair intently before disappearing into the night.

**Later that night at the Foundry…**

A series of loud thwacks boom through the Foundry as Ava blocks Oliver’s attack with her wooden staff. Ava’s on the offensive now, and Oliver manages to block her swipe at his head. The two have been going at it for hours, neither having gained much of an upper hand on the other, and both having serious issues that are best resolved through physical exertion. Oliver’s shirtless, his sweat from the training glistening off his toned abs and pecs, while Ava’s down to just her sports bra, more of her hair out of her bun than being kept in place by it. “Rough day?” Ava asks as she dodges Oliver’s attempt to sweep out her legs.

“Oh, you know,” Oliver gets out between deep intakes of breath, “holding off hostile take-overs in the boardroom and trying to make sure my mother doesn’t go to prison for the rest of her life. Just another day in paradise,” he finishes with a grunt as Ava kicks out his knees from behind him, locking him in a choke-hold with her wooden staff. “I yield,” he lets out reluctantly as he looks up at Ava who’s sporting a smug grin. She finally releases him as he heads for a couple of glasses. “How’s Laurel?” he asks as he pours two glasses of bourbon, handing one to Ava. 

Ava takes a long swig of the amber liquid, savoring its sweetness and low burn. “She wasn’t their target. We got lucky,” she says, her tone even and detached. “These copy-cats are ruining your good name,” she challenges after a long pause. 

“Becoming the vigilante was supposed to be about helping this city, not emboldening its citizens’ worse impulses,” he says regretfully as he swallows half the bourbon in one gulp. Shaking his head, he continues, “These copy-cats are undermining our mission.”

“What exactly is our mission these days?” Ava asks with a raised eyebrow. Oliver’s stare implores Ava to continue. “We have no leads on Merlyn, but the city’s problems go well beyond him. Tensions have only escalated since The Glades explosion with protests happening almost nightly.” Oliver nods as Ava downs the remainder of her glass. “What if we tried another way?” she asks, an idea suddenly occurring to her.

“What do you mean?” a puzzled Oliver asks.

“It’s hard to inspire when your work leaves a trail of bodies behind you,” Ava responds. 

Oliver puts his glass down, the clang of glass striking glass louder than he intended. “You know as well as I do that when I put on that hood, it’s kill or be killed,” he says defensively. 

Ava holds up her hands in defense, trying to deflect Oliver’s anger. “All I’m saying is, maybe we could try sending the perps to the emergency room instead of the morgue. The people of Starling City have been through so much, and having someone they can believe in, might actually be the first step in changing things.” 

Oliver sighs as he reaches for one of his arrows, gently running his thumb along the arrowhead. “You always know when and how hard to push. How is that?” he asks with a half-hearted smirk.

Ava sets her empty glass down and struts over to Oliver placing her palms along his bare chest when she reaches him. Leaning up to whisper in his ear, she purrs, “I’m the only woman who’s ever been able to resist you.” Not an instant after Ava finishes speaking, the pair are cracking up as Ava wipes her hands on her leggings. “Ew, you’re so sweaty right now,” she manages to get out between bursts of laughter as she throws him a shirt. “Our partnership has always been about doing what’s best for the city.” Ava offers, turning serious again. “Ever since I helped you rescue Walter, I’ve told you when I think you’re making a mistake. And you have too. It’s what good partners do.” 

“I’ve spent the last year trying to avenge my father,” Oliver laments, his tone a mix of melancholy and hope. “I crossed every name off his list, but Starling City still needs saving.”

“It’s too bad the hoods kind of ruined your nickname,” Ava lets out with a smirk.

“I don’t want to be called ‘The Hood’ anymore.”

“OK...what do you want to be called?” Ava asks, her brow furrowed. She follows Oliver’s eyes down to the arrow in his hands, rolling her eyes in understanding. “I’ll let our marketing department know so they can update our swag,” she jokes as she grabs her bag and starts heading for the stairs.

“Ava,” Oliver calls out to her as she nears the Foundry entrance. Once Ava has turned around to face him, Oliver tells her, “I’m glad Laurel has you in her life.”

Ava shakes her head, amused at the thought of her wife once upon a time being in love with this dork. “I’m still immune to your charms!” she yells back as she closes the door behind her and heads home.

**The next evening…**

“Babe, I thought you were going to be home an hour ago,” Ava says, relieved to hear her wife come strolling through their front door. She puts down the spatula she’s been holding and wipes her hands on her red polka dot apron before making her way over to Laurel, wrapping her up in her arms before Laurel even has a chance to take off her coat.

“I know, I got out of there as quickly as I could, but the case against Moira is so high profile,” Laurel says with a sigh as she returns Ava’s embrace. “The DA wants to make sure everyone brings their ‘A game’ because of all of the additional press and scrutiny, which leaves me picking up slack on every other case.” Laurel takes off her coat and kicks off her shoes as she is already enjoying the feeling of being home and getting to spend a quiet evening alone with her wife. Suddenly she’s hit by the aroma of dinner wafting in from the kitchen. “Yum! What am I smelling?”

Having completely forgotten about their meal, Ava dashes back into the kitchen to make sure nothing has burned. Satisfied, she turns off the stove and begins plating their chicken marsala and broccoli rabe. “I’ll grab the wine,” Laurel offers as she retrieves a bottle of chianti and two glasses, meeting Ava at the table. As the pair enjoy their meal, Laurel can’t help but think how happy she is to have such an amazing wife. “Another amazing meal. I don’t know how you do it,” she says leaning in to plant a kiss on Ava’s lips.

“Well, it’s a good thing I do cook because otherwise we’d either starve or be part owners in that Chinese place down the street that you’re obsessed with,” Ava teases. 

“Hey! I made you breakfast last week!” Laurel says, feigning hurt as she refills her wine glass.

“That’s a generous interpretation of the word ‘made’,” Ava jokes. “My eggs were both runny and burned, and I’m still not sure how that’s possible.”

Laurel rolls her eyes as Ava has managed to help her push past the stress from the day in just a few minutes by being her wonderful self. “How was your day? Any breaks in the bureau’s case against The Undertaking?”

“You’re as bad as our former mayor, counselor Lance,” Ava teases, throwing a dish towel at Laurel. “You know that’s classified, babe.”

“Oh c’mon,” Laurel starts, placing gentle kisses on Ava’s neck. “Classified...schmassified.” 

Ava moans as she maneuvers Laurel onto her lap. “I know what this means to you,” she says as she holds Laurel. “We’re doing everything we can to find them and bring them to justice.”

Laurel sighs, needing a distraction.“Did we get anything interesting in the mail today?” she asks as she reaches for the stack of envelopes to her right. Before Ava can say anything, Laurel starts flicking through them and stops when one in particular catches her eye. It’s from Central City University. Laurel sniffles, trying to hold back the tears she knows are coming as Ava puts her hand on Laurel’s shoulder, gently squeezing to show her support. 

“You don’t have to open it now,” Ava offers, taking their plates over to the sink to start clean-up from dinner. 

“No, it’s, it’s OK,” Laurel says, clearing her throat to try to push past the raw emotions. Letting out a sigh as she reads the first few sentences Laurel explains, “It’s about her life insurance policy.”

Ava returns to Laurel’s side and wraps her arms tightly around her, trying to protect her wife from all of the hurt and pain she’s been through over the past few months. Laurel holds onto Ava tightly, weeping into her wife’s strong arms. “I miss her so much,” Laurel manages to get out between sobs. The pair stand there for several moments, Ava just holding Laurel and rubbing her back, trying to soothe her wife through fresh memories of the loss of her mother as she has done so many times over the past few months until the chirping of Ava’s phone cuts through the sound of Laurel’s sobs.

Ava tries to ignore it but Laurel speaks first, sniffling before she does. “Go save the city. It’s OK,” she musters as convincingly as possible, although she wants nothing more than to stay in Ava’s strong arms all night. 

Loosening her hold on Laurel slightly, Ava reaches for her phone to see who has dared to interrupt their evening. The text reads  _ 0000001110001111  _ from an unknown number. Stepping away from Laurel to see what’s going on, she taps on the message to call back. “Agent Sharpe,” she answers once she hears someone pickup on the other line.

“We’ve got activity. Meet me at the Foundry,” the scrambled, muffled voice on the other end says hurriedly before hanging up.

Putting her phone down, Ava looks apologetically over at Laurel. “We’ll talk when I get home?” she asks, wishing she didn’t have to leave Laurel in her fragile state.

Laurel nods. Over the past few years she’s grown used to the bureau calling Ava at all hours of the day to work open cases. She respects how much her wife cares about her job and trying to make things safer in Starling City, but at times like these she wishes Ava had a more normal lifestyle. 

Ava gathers her things and lays a quick kiss on Laurel’s lips before heading outside. She hops on her motorcycle and quickly revs the engine before speeding off as Laurel opens another bottle of wine.

Less than ten minutes later, Ava slips past the guests at Verdant to make her way down the stairs to the Foundry where she’s met by Oliver already clad in his green suit along with Felicity and Diggle. “Did you walk here?” an impatient Oliver asks, tension and frustration obvious in his tone. 

Rolling her eyes, Ava reaches into her bag and throws a small piece of fabric at him as she swaps out her motorcycle helmet for her smaller, sleeker vigilante one and loads up her gun. Oliver unfolds the piece of fabric to find it’s a mask. He stares at it, clearly confused, before turning to look over at Ava, one of his eyebrows raised. “You know why I don’t wear one of these.” 

He’s about to throw it away when Ava stops him. “Don’t you dare! It’s a compressible microfiber, designed to conform to your face without hindering your ability to aim!” she scolds him. Oliver eyes her skeptically before slipping on the mask. It fits perfectly, but he can’t bring himself to give her the satisfaction of being right. “Told you,” Ava says with a smirk when he offers no rebuttal.

“Knit this yourself?” Oliver asks.

Ava and Felicity both let out a chuckle at the idea of her knitting. “Right. I told you I was going to have our marketing team come up with some new swag,” she says as she playfully hits him on the arm before grabbing her vest. “What are we up against tonight?” Ava asks, looking over at Felicity.

“Proud Boys rally. Tiki torches. Confederate flags. The whole shebang,” a disgusted Felicity mutters as she pulls up the locations and photos of the event on the monitor for the whole team to see. 

“OK, don’t get me wrong, these guys need to get gone and fast, but since when are they on our radar?” Ava asks, confused. Anticipating her question, Felicity brings up another shot of the rally, showing two men in black hoods, causing Ava’s jaw to clench in anger at the people who held a gun to Laurel’s head the day before. “Where are they?” she asks, her voice low, coming out as more of a growl than a question.

Felicity relays the coordinates of the rally to Oliver, Ava, and Diggle who all take off separately to the square downtown. Ava parks her bike and slowly makes her way over to the square on foot, radioing Diggle and Oliver to confirm they’ve all arrived. Ava has to fight down the bile she feels rising in her throat at the sight ahead of her. Illuminated by only their tiki torches, dozens of white men are marching and chanting, their singular goal to intimidate anyone who doesn’t look like them. Seeing her partners engage two copy-cats on the north end, she heads for a lone hood on the east side. Fighting the urge to snap his neck, Ava kicks his right arm then sweeps out his legs, causing him to fall violently to the ground with the wind knocked out of him. 

Turning around to check on Oliver and Diggle, a sudden movement in the corner of her eye draws Ava’s attention to the south side of the square. She sees a woman clad in all black leather with a long blonde wig and mask covering her face. Fearing she could be an accomplice to the hoods, Ava sprints after her. “Anybody know who our blonde friend is?” she asks between gasps, gaining on the unknown woman. 

Ava’s lungs are burning from the all out sprint, but she can’t let whoever this woman is get away. When she’s close enough, Ava leaps for the woman and tackles her to the ground. Before Ava knows what’s happening, the woman elbows her and wiggles out of her grasp. She extends her bo staff as Ava frantically searches for a weapon, settling on a nearby tree branch. The mystery woman proves to be a tougher challenge than the copy-cat hoods, matching Ava blow for blow. She hopes that she can keep her engaged long enough for Oliver and Diggle to show up, but as she quickly scans around for them, the woman pulls out a knife from her boot. Before Ava knows what’s happening, the vigilante has her knife pressed against her neck. “Take off your helmet,” a muffled voice comes from the woman. Ava complies, sliding off her helmet, her long blonde locks settling on her shoulders. 

Ava and the woman share a long stare, each trying to size up the other, until another muffled voice can be heard behind the pair, “Lower your weapon.” Ava thinks she can see a fleeting smirk spread across the woman’s face, but it’s so quick she figures she must’ve imagined it. Finally, the woman drops her hand holding the knife, and Ava feels she can properly breathe again. “Who are you?” the voice asks, this time much louder and more intimidating.

The woman turns around and takes a step back so she’s facing Oliver, Ava, and Diggle, getting a good look at the arrow Oliver has aimed at her head. Removing her wig, the woman looks him in the eyes and greets, “Hi, Ollie.”

For a minute Oliver forgets to breathe as he unconsciously feels his arms lowering his bow. Taking a step towards her, he asks in disbelief, “Sara?” Understanding finally dawns on Ava as she realizes the ghost of Laurel’s dead sister is standing in the flesh, right in front of her. “What are you doing here?” Oliver asks, his voice no longer muffled.

Sara takes a deep breath, ignoring Diggle and Ava’s stares. “Slade Wilson is alive.”


	2. What am I Defending Now?

“Sara, I saw you die,” Oliver says, confusion evident in his voice as he, Sara, Ava, and Diggle enter the Foundry. 

“Sara?” Felicity whispers to Diggle. “As in, Lance? As in Laurel’s sister? And Oliver’s...boat fling?” Diggle nods and clears his throat, feeling just as confused and uncomfortable as Felicity.

Ignoring them, Sara challenges, “And that’s the first time that’s happened, right?” She knows Oliver is about to go on one of his self-righteous monologues, and she’s not in the mood to hear a lecture from him. 

A loud thud draws Sara’s attention away from Oliver and to the source of the noise - Ava setting her helmet down on one of the metal tables. “Where have you been?” she asks, her voice a blend of anger and betrayal. Sara takes a moment to study the taller blonde. She recognizes her from the fundraiser the prior night, noting how comfortable she was with Laurel. The intensity of her stare does not go unnoticed by Sara, who wonders to herself how many times this woman has convinced someone to do something they didn’t want simply by looking at them. 

Sara returns the stare and defiantly tells Ava, “Everywhere.”

“That’s not an answer,” Ava spits out, already fed up with this woman who’s been lying to her wife and her partner for years about being alive. 

“Well it’s the one you’re getting,” Sara throws back. She lets out a sigh and turns back to face Oliver. “About a year ago, I started hearing tales of the Starling City vigilante. The man in the green hood. I knew it was you.”

“I have never known you to be much of a fighter,” an exasperated Oliver responds, not knowing what else to say as he sorts through the mess of questions running through his mind. “Where did you pick that up?” he asks.

“I met some rough people. Thought I should get rough too,” Sara says softly, trying to hold back her initial memories of the league. 

“Why did you come back?” Ava asks skeptically. She can see Oliver has a soft spot for this woman, and she’s not willing to let Sara off the hook so easily for lying to all of them for years. 

Flashes of reports of her mother’s death assault Sara’s senses, but she tries to push past them. A single tear escapes and rolls down her cheek as she replies softly, “The earthquake. My...my mother.” Oliver instinctively reaches out for Sara to envelope her in a hug. 

Seeing Sara’s pain at the loss of her mother softens Ava for a minute. She knows the hell Laurel has gone through the past few months, but she can’t imagine Sara having to sort through that all on her own. After giving her and Oliver a minute, Ava asks the question on everyone’s mind, “What do you know about Slade?”

“ _ You _ know about Slade?” Oliver turns to her suddenly, never having heard Ava mention his name in all the time that they’ve been working together. Sara crosses her arms, intrigued by the fact that Ava has not been entirely forthright with Oliver about her associates.

Feeling everyone’s attention on her, Ava reluctantly offers, “Waller thought he might be connected to The Undertaking.” 

“You had concerns that Slade was alive in the spring? Why didn’t you tell me?” Oliver admonishes Ava, his voice growing louder.

Ava rolls her eyes and lets out a heavy sigh before explaining, “Well for one thing, our partnership didn’t exactly get off on the strongest foot. Plus we quickly realized he wasn’t connected and had to deal with all of the aftermath from the earthquake. He didn’t really seem relevant until this one showed up,” she says petulantly, gesturing to Sara, earning her a glare from the shorter blonde.

“Can someone please explain to me who this Slade Wilson guy is and why his being alive is such a big deal?” Felicity interjects, feeling out of the loop on the entire conversation.

Oliver takes a deep breath before trying to fill in the blanks. “You know about Shado and Yao Fei on Lian Yu, but a lot of my training was by a man named Slade Wilson. He taught me how to fight.” Oliver cautiously looks over at Sara before diving into the rest of his relationship with Slade. “A man named Ivo was exploring Lian Yu, looking for mirakuru.”

“Mira-what?” Diggle asks.

“It’s a chemical weapon the Japanese experimented with after World War 2,” Oliver explains. “If it doesn’t kill the person it’s injected into, it gives them superhuman abilities. Slade was infected. And when he found out that I chose to save Sara over Shado from Ivo, he...he couldn’t control himself anymore. I had to put an arrow through his eye to stop him,” Oliver says the last part very softly.

“So, if you saw him die, how can he still be alive?” Ava asks the question on everyone’s mind as she turns to face Sara.

“All I know is that the people I’ve spent the last five years with are terrified of a ‘man for whom no weapon can pierce.’ Reports of encounters with him have grown in number over the past few months. Each one mentioning his Australian accent, eye patch, and dual swords he carries on his back,” Sara explains, careful not to let on about the company she’s kept over that time.

“And who would those people you’ve spent the last five years with be?” Ava asks skeptically, her hands on her hips.

“You know that has to be Slade, Ollie,” Sara says softly, ignoring Ava.

Oliver nods as he feels uneasiness settling in the pit of his stomach. “He blames both of us for her death,” he says, his voice barely louder than a whisper. “You should stay with me at the mansion,” he offers. “You’ll be safe there.” Turning to face Ava a disgruntled Oliver asks, “See what intel you can get from Waller on Slade.” 

“When are you going to tell Laurel?” Ava asks, earning a startled glance from Sara. 

“Laurel and my father can’t know that I’m alive,” Sara says forcefully.

Ava takes a step towards Sara, incredulous at her wanting to hide the fact that she’s alive from Laurel. “You can’t be serious! How could you be so selfish?”

“Selfish?” Sara yells back in disbelief at Ava’s words. “I’m just trying to protect them!”

“No, you get to check-in on them and make sure they’re OK, but do you know the hell they’ve been through the past few months trying to grieve the loss of your mother?” Ava’s directly in front of Sara, not allowing her to get out of this conversation. “Knowing that you’re alive would mean everything to Laurel,” Ava says the last part quietly as a single tear runs down her cheek, remembering all of the nights she held Laurel while she cried herself to sleep over the loss of her mother.

Sara studies Ava’s face for a moment, trying to see inside the mind of the woman her sister has fallen so deeply in love with. Besides Ava’s beauty, which was evident to Sara from the moment she first saw her in the black dress the night before, and intensity, there’s a smugness to her that gets under Sara’s skin. She’s used to dealing with other damaged people, who are confused about what they’re after in this world. But not the woman before her, whose dedication to her wife and the city are so apparent. If she weren’t so damn annoying, Sara would find her kind of hot. Deciding against de-escalating the situation, Sara instead responds with, “And how does Laurel feel about her wife spending her nights off galavanting with the Starling City vigilante?”

Ava’s caught like a deer in the headlights, knowing she doesn’t have a counter to Sara. All she can do is stand there and glare at Sara. Ava doesn’t know what to make of this woman. Her piercing blue eyes remind her of the ocean and provide a calm that contrasts so sharply to the many fires Sara is clearly dealing with.

“That’s what I thought,” Sara responds condescendingly. “I see you’re eager to spill other people’s secrets, but not your own,” she challenges.

Realizing she’s not going to get Sara to agree to anything tonight and suddenly feeling exhaustion from the night’s activities setting in, Ava moves to grab her helmet, and on her way out, she bumps Sara’s shoulder saying, “You’re not keeping this from her forever. If you don’t tell her soon, I will.” 

As she rides through the mostly quiet streets of Starling City, Ava tries to let the adrenaline overwhelm the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She’s not sure how she can face Laurel knowing that Sara’s alive. Ava knows that eventually the truth about Sara will come out, and Laurel will blame her for not telling her sooner, which she rightfully deserves. She just hopes that Laurel is asleep when she arrives home so she can put off having to lie to her for a little while.

Ava parks her motorcycle and heads into the house where she’s greeted by the sight of her wife, peacefully sleeping, and slightly drooling on their living room couch. The empty wine glass and bottle on the coffee table don’t go unnoticed as it doesn’t take too much of Ava’s imagination to surmise how Laurel spent the remainder of her evening. They’ll have a conversation about that at some point too. Ava grabs the blanket that’s folded up behind the couch and drapes it over Laurel, who starts to stir. As she opens her eyes, Ava notices the redness and puffiness around them, and her heart immediately breaks, knowing how much joy news of Sara being alive would bring her.

Laurel sits up slightly and lets out a long, exaggerated yawn, smiling slightly at the sight of her wife. “Everything go OK?” she asks softly, still a bit drowsy. She pats the cushion next to her, inviting Ava to sit down.

Eagerly complying, Ava kicks off her shoes and leather jacket before taking a seat next to Laurel. Ava guides Laurel into her lap as she protectively curls her arms around her wife. Letting out a sigh as she tries to rid her mind of Sara’s face, Ava replies, “Never a dull moment. How about you?”

Laurel sniffles before explaining, “I thought going back to work would help. Give me a purpose. But there’s reminders of her everywhere.”

“You don’t have to stay at the ADA’s office, babe,” Ava offers, trying to soothe her wife.

“No, I want to, it’s just,” Laurel yawns again as she starts to settle into Ava’s embrace, feeling comfortable and safe for the first time since dinner. “I was such a wreck after Sara, and you helped me deal with everything. I didn’t think I would have to go through something like that again so quickly.”

“Try to get some rest. I’m not going anywhere,” Ava whispers as she feels Laurel relax into her. After a few minutes of silence as Ava starts to drift off, memories of how she and Laurel first met consume her mind.

_ Satisfied with having reached a solid stopping point in her current case, Laurel logs off from her computer at the CNRI and begins to pack up her things for the evening. Taking a moment to look around the office, she realizes she’s the only one left, and it’s pitch black outside. Looking down to her watch, she sees it's already after 8, and her favorite Chinese place is closing soon. Knowing her cupboards are bare and feeling a slight rumble in her stomach, she quickly slips on her red raincoat and heads for the door, locking it behind her. _

_ As Laurel makes her way down the street towards the restaurant, she thinks she hears something behind her, but when she turns around, there’s nothing. It’s one of the first cool nights in the city, and she’s not sure if the chill she’s feeling is from the slight breeze or the feeling that someone is following her. Suddenly, she’s shoved up against the brick wall of one of the nearby buildings, feeling the wind get knocked out of her. Laurel tries to scream, having seen dozens of cases of women in the situation she now finds herself, but she can’t catch her breath as her attacker has her forcefully pinned. _

_ Laurel tries to ready herself for the pain she knows is coming when she feels her attacker get yanked off of her, allowing her to properly breathe again. As her senses return and she realizes she’s no longer pinned, Laurel looks towards the shadows of the street where the person she can only assume is her attacker is getting pummeled by a woman in a black pantsuit. ‘Who is this person?’ Laurel thinks, in awe of her movements as she twists the man’s arm behind his back and hears his yelp of pain. A second man who’s been watching his buddy get his ass kicked approaches the woman, who makes quick work of him too. _

_ Ava doesn’t remember the last time it felt so good to arrest a couple of perps as she slaps cuffs on them, reads them their Miranda rights, and radios for backup to get them to the nearest Starling City PD station. Once she’s satisfied the men have been properly neutralized, she makes her way over to Laurel asking, “Are you OK? Should I call an ambulance?” _

_ “No, I’m fine,” Laurel says, her voice a bit shaky. She’s completely mesmerized by the woman in front her, her dark blue-gray eyes reminding her of the sky right before a storm. _

_ “Is there someone I can call?” Ava asks. Now that she really takes a moment to observe the woman under the light of the streetlamp, she realizes how beautiful she is. _

_ Laurel shakes her head, explaining, “No, my car is on the next block. I was going to swing by the Chinese place to grab dinner,” she says, gesturing down the street. “Why don’t you come with me?” Laurel asks, earning her a puzzled look from Ava. “Have you had dinner yet? It’s the least I could do after you saved me.” _

_ Ava smiles, her heart pounding as the thought of sharing a meal and getting to know the beautiful woman in front of her sounds like the best thing to happen to her in months. _

_ Before she can answer, a few uniformed officers show up, interrupting the pair. “Agent Sharpe, we got your radio. We’re here to take the perps down to the station,” one of them says to Ava. “Is this the victim? Ma’am, we’ll need your statement,” he says as he turns to face Laurel. _

_ “That won’t be necessary,” Ava says as she can tell that’s the last thing Laurel wants to do. Feeling curious eyes on her from the two officers and needing to provide them with a reasonable answer, she says, “I was about to take her statement myself. I’ll meet you two back at the station with her statement.” _

_ Once the officers are out of sight, Ava looks over at Laurel and with a giddy smile says, “I’m starving. What’s good at this place?” _

**The next day at the Foundry…**

“Are you really not going to tell me where you’ve been?” Oliver asks between gasps as he and Sara have been going at it for hours with their wooden staffs. He quickly blocks her swipe at his head while turning to sweep out her legs, although she blocks him.  _ She moves a lot like Ava _ , Oliver thinks to himself.

Sara smirks as she can feel Oliver going easy on her because he’s not sure about how hard to push. “Because you’ve been so forthright with your team about where you’ve been the past five years?” Sara challenges him as she throws a series of attacks at Oliver.

“Where did your associates come into contact with Slade?” Oliver asks, trying a new approach. Suddenly Sara fails to block one of his attacks, and Oliver’s staff swipes the side of her head. “Let me see,” Oliver says softly, dropping his weapon and cupping Sara’s face as she looks at him, more annoyed with herself for missing a block than anything. “You’re bleeding,” he says through a huff, “but it’s not deep.” 

“You seem to have settled back into some semblance of normalcy,” Sara says as Oliver gently cleans her forehead and places a band-aid over her cut. 

“It’s tough to compartmentalize what happened on the island, especially when trying to reconcile what the world expects from Oliver Queen,” he says through a forced smile. Oliver heads to one of the cabinets against a nearby wall and retrieves a couple of glasses and his favorite bourbon. Handing one to Sara, he tells her, “But then I remember I’m not the only one who’s had to endure things I never imagined I would have to. We all go through our crucibles, Sara.”

Sara smirks and shakes her head at the man before her and how different he is from the Oliver she got on  _ The Gambit _ with and the one with which she fought Ivo and Slade. “I don’t remember you being so wise,” she teases. 

“I’m not,” he says as he takes a long sip from his bourbon. “But, having a team and being able to trust someone has taught me a lot over the last year.”

“Trust?” Sara asks between sips of the amber liquid. “I’m not even sure I know what that word means anymore.” Her tone is melancholy and full of regret as she thinks back to her time with the League over the past few years. 

“The first time Ava questioned my methods, I wanted to just…” Oliver trails off as he holds up his hands and clenches his fists. “But she was right, as is usually the case,” he explains, downing the remainder of his bourbon. 

Sara immediately tenses at the mention of Ava. She’d been trying not to think about the woman who managed to get under her skin. She clearly loves Laurel and would do anything to protect her, but her smugness and self-righteousness were too much for Sara to take.  _ Who does she think she is, lecturing me about lying to Laurel when she’s been keeping something from her for months _ , Sara thinks. Trying to shake her thoughts of Ava, Sara instead sets her empty glass down and approaches Oliver, snaking her arm around his waist as she leans up to plant a kiss on his lips. It’s short and soft, an invitation to see if what they had so many years ago is still worth exploring. 

“What are you doing?” Oliver asks between kisses, a bit startled by Sara’s actions. 

“Trusting someone,” Sara husks as she deepens the kiss, running her fingers through Oliver’s hair. Oliver slips off his shirt as he picks Sara up so her legs are curled around his waist. Sara follows suit and slips off her shirt as the two continue to satiate their desires. 

Suddenly, the two are interrupted by the ringing of Oliver’s phone. Oliver lets out a deep sigh as he brings the phone to his cheek, “What?” He asks breathlessly. 

“I’m en route. The Dollmaker has Laurel.”

**Across town in an abandoned factory…**

“Isn’t this nice?” Barton Mathis, the Dollmaker, muses to Laurel as she leans against an industrial pole, struggling against her restraints. A tube is fixed to her mouth, preventing her from screaming. Laurel’s not sure how she ended up with this maniac. The last thing she remembers, she was home with Ava when this man burst into their house and knocked her wife unconscious. Laurel knows how Quentin put him in prison a number of years ago and figures he must’ve escaped from Iron Heights during the quake.

“You’re so lovely. Maybe a little too much melanin in the skin,” Mathis says as he strokes Laurel’s face with his gloved hand. She recoils to the extent that she can, given her restraints, from his touch. He continues, “But it’s the imperfections that make us sublime. This isn’t personal, just trying to send a message to your father.” As he finishes the last part, Mathis pours his liquid polymer into the vat, and it snakes its way, too quickly Laurel thinks, up to the tube, approaching her mouth. She tries to struggle, but her restraints are too tight to allow her room to maneuver. “If you struggle it will take longer,” he sneers menacingly.

Suddenly, Ava lands on the far lab table, crushing Mathis’ supplies, before landing an expert shot at the tube connected to Laurel’s mouth. Her bullet hits its target, knocking the tube free as Mathis takes cover behind Laurel. Ava fires another shot, being careful to avoid her wife, but she also just nearly misses the man who did this to Laurel. Needing to know Laurel is OK, Ava quickly makes her way to her side and cups Laurel’s face in her hands, locking eyes with her wife. 

“I’m fine,” Laurel tries to assert, but her voice is hoarse and shaky and does little to convince Ava, who passionately kisses her, finally feeling that she can breathe a sigh of relief, now that she’s able to hold Laurel in her arms again. A thump draws Ava’s attention as she glances behind her to see that Oliver, clad in his Arrow disguise has dropped in. Ava takes that as her cue to follow Mathis.

Meanwhile, Sara, clad in her Black Canary suit, gracefully drops in on the floor of the warehouse and after a quick extension of both ends of her bo staff, she connects them and proceeds to make quick work of Mathis. She has him on the ropes, skillfully attacking and landing blow after blow against the man who dared to hurt her sister. As Mathis is writhing on the ground, and with Sara thinking she’s won, she holsters her staff against her side with her arm, but Mathis pulls a nearby dangling chain. The next thing Sara knows, several large metal tubes are crashing down on top of her. Mathis starts to approach Sara, muttering, “Let’s take a better look at this pretty face of yours. You have such lovely skin.” His voice is no less creepy than when he was torturing Laurel. 

Sara for her part is pinned by the tubes and can only shrink away from his touch as he approaches, until she hears the discharge of a nearby gun and sees a bullet embed itself within his shoulder. As Mathis collapses holding his bleeding arm, Ava runs to Sara and helps her up, before turning back to face the man who abducted and tried to kill her wife, her firearm pointed directly at him. It takes every ounce of willpower Ava possesses not to pull the trigger, but instead reach for her hand-cuffs, saying as calmly as she can, “You’re going back to prison.” 

But as she takes a step towards him, she sees him get impaled by Sara’s staff. “No, he isn’t,” Sara’s muffled canary voice says, making no attempts to hide her contempt for the man now lying dead at their feet. 

Ava turns around to glare at Sara, showing off the intensity Sara has come to admire in the taller woman. “That’s not how we do things anymore,” Ava scolds as she holsters her gun. 

“Take the win, Agent Sharpe,” Sara jokes through her voice modifier. “You just can’t admit we actually make a halfway decent team,” Sara smiles, feeling the relief of knowing Laurel is safe wash over her.


	3. I Know Where it all went Wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK y'all normally I don't post notes because I like to let the story speak for itself. That being said, this chapter introduces the subject of police brutality, which has been part of the national dialogue for much of this year. I recognize everyone has their own experience with this subject, and I'm not trying to get political with it. It just seemed like, if the Occupy Wall Street movement was the origin for the civil unrest in Arrow Season 2 (circa 2013), this would be the obvious narrative replacement if they were re-writing it for 2020. This story is purely for fiction purposes only, and I hope this sub-plot doesn't deter anyone from the Avalance goodness, because I just really love those dorks.
> 
> Hope y'all enjoy the update! Love seeing your thoughts and reactions and hope everyone is doing well in these crazy times!

Sara’s wooden staff violently collides with Ava’s as she blocks Sara’s latest blow. The two have been sparring in the Foundry for hours, neither willing to concede to the other. “Where did you learn to fight, Sharpe?” a breathless Sara asks as she barely dodges a swipe by Ava at her head. “You don’t fight like any fed I’ve ever come across.”

“Come across a lot of feds, do you, Ms. Lance?” Ava challenges as she tries to catch her breath. She and Sara are both covered in sweat and down to just their sports bras and leggings. Ava would be lying to herself if she said she hadn’t noticed Sara’s perfectly sculpted abs and shoulders, but what really catches her attention is all of Sara’s scars. Ava doesn’t blame her about her hesitance for telling them about where she’s been, although it could prove useful in them tracking down Slade.

“C’mon, I thought you were starting to like me,” Sara teases. Seeing an opening, she throws one of her staffs at Ava, but she deflects it, and it hits the ground, out of reach of either woman. Not liking being down a weapon, Sara throws a quick series of attacks at Ava, closing the gap between the two of them and reaching for her second staff. Ava tries to out-maneuver Sara, but Sara is able to successfully disarm her left hand and even the playing field.

“It’s been over a week,” a frustrated Ava tells Sara. “When are you going to come clean to Laurel and Quentin?” Ava asks as she kicks out towards Sara’s head. Sara had grown on Ava since she held a knife to her throat during their initial interaction, but the longer she went without revealing herself to Laurel, the longer it gnawed at Ava for being dishonest with her wife.

Sara just barely dodges Ava and throws her up against the nearest wall and grabs for her staff. With their faces only inches apart, Sara asks breathlessly, “When are you going to tell Laurel about your partnership with the Arrow?” It’s been eating Ava up inside not telling Laurel about what she really does, but Ava has convinced herself it’s the best way to keep her wife safe. 

Ava headbutts Sara, who flips Ava over. Much to Sara’s chagrin, Ava lands on her feet, and they re-engage each other this time without weapons, trading blows until they both land direct punches at each other, and they both collapse holding their heads, a slight trickle of blood escaping each of their noses. “You wanna take a break?” an exhausted Ava asks.

“I could use some water,” Sara agrees, massaging the bridge of her nose. Ava slowly makes her way to her feet and grabs a few glasses, filling them with water before setting them on one of the tables. She makes her way over to Sara, holding out her hand to help her to her feet. 

“You don’t have to listen to her cry herself to sleep every night,” Ava says quietly as the pair re-hydrate. 

Sara takes a deep breath, ashamed of what Oliver and even Ava would think of her if they knew the truth about her, let alone her own family. “She’s better off thinking I died,” Sara finally admits, her eyes not meeting Ava’s gaze. 

“Felicity, can you pull up the local news?” Oliver asks as they, along with Diggle, stroll down the stairs of the Foundry and approach one of her work stations. “Glad to see you two haven’t killed each other, _yet_ ,” he says as he puts a hand on Ava’s shoulder.

Ava shrugs off Oliver’s hand as Felicity cues up the feed, and the team turns their attention to her monitor. “If you are just joining us, we are coming to you live from The Glades with breaking news this hour,” the anchor relays. “An unarmed black man has been killed by Starling City police after being shot eight times. Let’s go to our reporter who’s live on the scene for more.”

As the reporter begins to explain the gruesome details, including that the four officers involved thought the man was reaching for a gun when they fired, Diggle turns around, unable to stomach another second of the coverage. Noticing her friend’s struggle, Ava walks over to him and wraps her arms around Diggle, whispering, “We needed a new mission. I guess this is it.” Sara, Oliver, and Felicity all embrace Diggle, signaling they’re ready to take on this fight.

The team hasn’t been oblivious to the rising number of examples of police brutality, especially in The Glades, but the question of how to address it has been a divisive one. They tried approaching the mayor, but he justified the situation with the ‘a few bad apples’ excuse. What pushed today to the breaking point however, was a figure in the background of a few shots of the scene. It was one of the hood copy-cats. He was subtle, barely visible unless you were really looking for him, but he represented a sign that today’s events might have been orchestrated, which was something no member of Team Arrow could stomach, and they knew they would be the city’s best chance against those who would purposefully incite unnecessary violence.

The coverage then shifts to an interview with a local alderman, Sebastian Blood. “This is yet another example of how this city, its elites in particular, has turned its back on the people of The Glades,” Blood explains passionately. “This heinous act needs to be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law, and these murderers need to be brought to justice! Wasn’t it enough that the explosions which rocked our city only months ago, disproportionately affected those who come from more humble means? Now we have to worry about threats coming from the very people who’ve sworn to protect us? If you want to help me put an end to this senseless violence, I invite you to join me and the residents of The Glades this evening as we peacefully march to city hall to call on the DA’s office to bring murder charges against each officer involved in today’s tragedy!”

“Who is this guy?” Oliver asks curiously.

“Sebastian Blood...alderman in The Glades for the past four years...orphaned at ten. Seems like a real man of the people,” Felicity informs him after a few taps on her keyboard. 

“Felicity, could you set up a meeting with him at Queen Consolidated? It’s about time we started using the family business for a good cause,” Oliver says with a smile.

**Later that afternoon…**

“Hey, babe,” Ava greets her wife as she places a gentle peck on her cheek. It’s Wednesday, so the two are meeting up for their weekly lunch at the local mediterranean buffet, a tradition they started when they were dating and trying to navigate their hectic schedules. It’s a little after the lunch rush, which means it’s less crowded, and all of the food has just been turned over. “You seem a little stressed - is everything OK?” Ava asks as she digs into one of her stuffed grape leaves.

Laurel takes a bite of her falafel, before explaining, “Did you hear about what happened late last night, with Colin Reid?” Ava nods as she scoops some hummus onto her pita. “Donner assigned me to prosecute the officers involved.”

“Woah, that’s huge! You’ve been waiting for an assignment like this, right?” Ava asks as she reaches to squeeze Laurel’s hand, happy that she has her own case now, instead of back-filling her co-workers on the Moira Queen case.

Laurel sighs, not sharing Ava’s enthusiasm. “He only asked me because everyone else is staffed on the Queen trial.” 

“Here you go ma’am,” a server says as he places a glass of red wine down in front of Laurel. 

She takes a long sip before continuing, “Plus, you better than most people know how these things go. There have been how many cases like this across the country over the past few months? How many officers have been convicted and served any jail time? Not to mention how my dad being a cop complicates all of this,” an exasperated Laurel explains, while she takes another long sip.

Ava is admittedly a little freaked out by her wife’s unusual behavior. “Babe, I know this is high profile, and you’re in a tough situation with your dad, but, we’ve been coming here for over four years, and this is the first time you’ve ever ordered a drink,” Ava explains, trying to keep her voice from betraying how worried she is. “Plus I’m sure your dad would agree that the actions of those officers make good cops like him look bad.”

“Are you seriously lecturing me right now? I’m a grown woman, and I can have a glass of wine with lunch when I want to,” Laurel shoots back, suddenly feeling defensive about her actions. 

Taken aback by Laurel’s heated tone, Ava tries to soothe the tension by softly reminding her, “I just know how hard you’ve worked not to go through what you’ve seen your dad go through. I’d hate to see all of that hard work go to waste, babe.”

“Well, maybe if you were actually around for more than five minutes, you’d be a little more sympathetic to what I’m going through,” Laurel says as she downs the remainder of her wine and motions for their server to bring her another glass.

“Is that what this is about?” Ava asks, confused. “You know how important my job is.” Ava doesn’t know what else to say. Starling City has been going through a reckoning ever since the earthquakes the previous spring, and she couldn’t imagine giving up the work she’s been doing with Oliver, Felicity, and Diggle. 

Displeased with Ava’s response, Laurel abruptly stands up and throws some cash on the table for lunch. Exasperated, she tells Ava, “It’d be great if we could actually have a conversation once and a while about your job the way we do about mine. But, oh wait, that would require you to be home to actually talk to me. I’ll be home late, don’t wait up.” She pushes in her chair as she leaves a stunned Ava frozen and trying to make sense of what just happened.

By the time her brain catches up to the events that just transpired, Ava tries to protest, but Laurel is long gone. Keeping all of her secrets from her wife is starting to take its toll on Ava as she lets out a deep sigh and lets her mind wander to how she and the Arrow first started their partnership.

**Six months ago...**

_‘You’re gonna be really upset when you meet my partner,” Felicity warns the casino manager ominously as he squashes her comms device._

_Oliver, clad in his Green Arrow costume, busts through the doors to the casino as the carefree atmosphere of the pit suddenly comes to a screeching halt. He takes out each staff member as they come after him, making his way back towards Felicity’s location as quickly as possible, while, unbeknownst to Oliver, a tall blonde clad in a sparkling silver dress hides behind one of the blackjack tables, carefully watching his every move._

_Oliver kicks in the door as he comes face to face with Alonzo holding a gun to Felicity’s head. He aims at them, firing into the dart board behind the man’s head. ‘I heard you never miss,’ Alonzo says, a small sigh of relief escaping his lips._

_‘I don’t,” Oliver replies, his voice muffled by his disrupter, as the arrow explodes, sending the man to the ground and giving Felicity ample opportunity to separate herself from him. The tall blonde from the pit has made her way to the door frame, trying to eavesdrop on as much of their conversation as possible. ‘Where’s Walter Steele?” Oliver bellows as he grasps Alonzo tightly against the wall of the office._

_‘What? What are you talking about?’ the man asks, terrified of the Arrow but trying to get out of the situation unscathed._

_‘Six months ago you had him kidnapped!’ Oliver shouts back._

_‘It was just a job. I was given a name and didn’t ask any questions,’ Alonzo offers pathetically._

_‘Last chance. Where is he?’ Oliver menaces, tightly clutching the man’s throat._

_‘Below ground,’_

_‘You’re lying!’_

_‘I’m not. I delivered him, and they killed him. I heard the gunshots. He’s dead,’ Alonzo says quietly as he takes a deep breath now that Oliver has slightly loosened his grasp._

_Oliver sighs, his worst fears realized as he unloads a sucker-punch on the man, rendering him unconscious. Pulling down his hood, Oliver turns around to face Felicity, the two clearly shaken, when he sees a woman turn from the door to leave. He pulls his hood back up and runs after her, chasing her into the alley outside the casino. ‘Stop!’ he shouts using his vigilante voice as he levels his bow at her back. The woman freezes and slowly raises her hands. ‘Turn around!’ he yells back at her._

_Felicity has joined the pair as the mystery woman has turned around to face the two of them. ‘Isn’t the whole billionaire by day, vigilante by night thing a little played out?’ the woman asks, seemingly unbothered by the arrow pointed directly at her._

_The minute she turns around, Oliver immediately recognizes her, ‘Ava? What are you doing here?’ Regardless of her relationship with Laurel, Oliver was uncomfortable with someone he barely knew knowing his secret._

_Ava slowly approaches them, as she explains, ‘I believe we have a mutual acquaintance, Amanda Waller.’ She emphasizes the last part as she reaches out and slowly lowers Oliver’s arrowhead. Sensing Oliver is not satisfied with her explanation, she cautiously continues, mindful to give him enough, but not too much information, ‘ARGUS is investigating the Undertaking. Malcolm Merlyn is one of the casino’s biggest bank-rollers.’_

_‘Does Laurel know FBI agent is only a cover?’ Oliver asks, still not comfortable with the situation._

_‘Look,’ Ava starts, feeling not only Oliver’s questioning stare, but Felicity’s also, ‘we’re on the same side here. I’d appreciate a little professional courtesy and discretion. I assume you want the same,’ she says with a sigh and a raised eyebrow._

_‘You heard what Alonzo said back there. Walter’s dead. What’s ARGUS’ next lead?’ Oliver asks cautiously._

_Ava chuckles, earning her curious glances from the pair. ‘You bought that? He only heard gunshots. He didn’t see a body,’ she explains._

_‘So what do you suggest we do next?’ Oliver asks, growing impatient with Ava’s attitude._

_‘Tell your mother Walter is dead, then follow her,’ Ava explains matter-of-factly._

_‘My mother? What does she have to do with this?’ Oliver doesn’t like what Ava is implying, that his mother is somehow mixed up in this Undertaking plot._

**_Later that night at the Foundry…_ **

_‘I didn’t realize it was recruiting season for Team Arrow,’ Felicity says, a hint of annoyance in her voice, as she walks down the stairs and finds Oliver and Ava getting ready for a fight. ‘Shouldn’t you be with your family right now? I can’t imagine what they’re going through,’ Felicity says softly to Oliver, mostly ignoring Ava._

_‘Walter’s alive,’ Oliver spits out._

_‘What? But Alonzo said--’_

_‘I need you to pull up Malcom Merlyn’s phone records,’ Oliver instructs, trying to keep his temper in check over what he’s just learned about his mother. ‘He made a call from his office to wherever Walter is being kept at 10:30PM.’_

_‘Malcolm Merlyn?’ Felicity asks, confused. ‘Tommy’s father? Why would he kidnap Walter?’_

_‘Felicity...’ Oliver implores._

_She relents with her questions and heads to her computer. A few taps later, and, ‘LUDs show he made a call to a tenement complex located in Bludhaven.’_

_‘Can you pull up a satellite view?’ Ava asks as she and Oliver approach Felicity’s monitor._

_‘Uh, yeah,’ Felicity complies as she brings up the feed. ‘That’s a lot of security for low income housing. There’s two guards stationed at all access points.’_

_‘Any chance of getting some ARGUS back-up?’ Oliver asks, turning to face Ava._

_‘You’re looking at it,’ she answers with a cocked eyebrow._

_‘Weren’t you hiding when I broke into the casino? How do I even know--’ before Oliver can complete his questioning of Ava’s skills as a fighter, she kicks out his legs and slides a knife out from her boot so it’s resting firmly against Oliver’s neck. Never having witnessed someone bring Oliver to his knees so quickly, Felicity can’t help but let out a snort of delight, deciding in that moment that she really likes Ava._

_‘You were saying?’ she asks innocently._

_Oliver lets out a deep sigh, hating to admit when he’s wrong. ‘How are your parachuting skills?’ he asks, never one to admit when he’s wrong._

_Not long after, Oliver and Ava make quick work of the men guarding Walter’s location as they approach the room where he’s being held. As Ava reaches for the door’s lock, Oliver grabs her hand, ‘What exactly does ARGUS get out of this?’_

_‘Now that Malcolm doesn’t have Walter to hold over Moira’s head, she should be much more...cooperative,’ Ava answers. ‘Now, go be the hero,’ she teases as she heads for the exit, allowing Oliver the opportunity to get Walter to safety._

**Later that afternoon...**

“Hello, Agent Sharpe,” Amanda Waller, greets Ava coolly. “I was wondering when you were going to give me an update on Malcolm Merlyn’s whereabouts,” she adds impatiently. 

Ava’s dressed in her typical bureau cover ensemble, consisting of a horrid black pantsuit and tight bun. It was her third least favorite part about her job, after having to lie to Laurel and having to report to Waller. She lets out an exasperated sigh before informing her boss, “Unless you have intel you’ve been keeping from me, the last lead we got on Merlyn was months ago and turned out to be a dead-end.”

“Agent Sharpe, I’ve allowed you to galavant across Starling City with the vigilante for months, even after you failed to prevent the Undertaking,” Waller explains impatiently. “Don’t push your already short leash with me,” she warns. Receiving only a cold stare back from Ava, she finally asks, “Why are you here then?”

“Slade Wilson is alive,” Ava says, crossing her arms.

“Oliver killed him,” Waller responds in disbelief with a shake of her head. “That’s not possible.”

“Everything is possible where Slade is concerned,” Ava pushes, not completely buying her boss not knowing anything about Slade potentially being alive. 

“Where are you getting your information, Agent Sharpe?” Waller asks curiously. From her vantage point, the trail pointing to Slade still being alive went cold following the Undertaking several months prior.

Ava takes a deep breath, careful not to reveal Sara while also trying to lend credibility to her admittedly weak knowledge of the events. “One of my contacts...she’s heard stories of a man who can’t be killed. He bears several of Slade’s trademarks, including the Australian accent, and the eye patch, from where Oliver thought he killed him.”

Waller narrows her eyes at Ava as she takes in her story. “And which contact might this be?” she asks.

Ava bristles at Waller’s question but tries a different approach, knowing she can’t reveal Sara. “You know he’ll be headed to Starling City to finish his vendetta against Oliver. Give me an ARGUS team so that we can be prepared to capture him when he surfaces,” Ava pleads, hating how small Waller is making her feel.

Waller lets out a small chuckle at Ava’s suggestion. “Because you did so well with a _team_ last time?” she insinuates. She takes a step towards Ava and says coldly, “You weren’t able to prevent the Undertaking. What makes you think I’d trust you to stop Slade?”

“You knew there was a second earthquake device and didn’t tell me!” Ava fires back. It’s one thing for Waller to question Ava’s judgment in working with the vigilante, but blaming her for failing to prevent the destruction inflicted upon The Glades was a step too far. Ava and Oliver had prevented the device they knew about from leveling the city, and if Waller had told them about the second one, maybe they would’ve been able to stop it too, saving hundreds of lives, including Laurel’s mother.

“I knew you were too emotionally close to this situation,” Waller says while shaking her head. Her voice is so cold and detached, which only further aggravates Ava. As she feels Ava’s glare on her, she keeps going, “I think it might be time to reconsider your assignment here in Starling City.”

Ava’s eyes widen at her boss’ latest statement. “I’m not leaving this city,” she says defiantly. “And if you won’t do anything about Slade,” she pauses to consider her next words carefully, “I quit.” 

Waller rolls her eyes at Ava’s threat. This isn’t the first time her best agent has thrown the q-word out, and she doesn’t expect this time to be any different. Knowing she has to give Ava something, she relents, ever so slightly, “Fine. Bring me some hard evidence Slade is alive and back in Starling City, and we’ll talk about mitigation efforts.” 

  
  


**Later that night…**

Shouts of “No justice! No peace!” Sirens wailing. Car horns blaring without end.

As Ava, Oliver, Sara, and Diggle approach The Glades’ protests, they’re met with a haunting scene. There were protests and rallies following the explosion that rocked The Glades the previous spring, but nothing of this magnitude. Those seemed tame. Their tone was one of mourning and respect for those who’d lost their lives in an avoidable tragedy. But the atmosphere tonight isn’t about tragedy or mourning. It’s about knowing exactly who and what is responsible for yet another unnecessary death in the city. It’s about making sure everyone knows the names of the officers responsible and pushing the city’s leadership to hold them accountable.

The team hangs back, sticking to the shadows and less crowded alleys to avoid causing a scene. They’re there because Felicity picked up the remaining copy-cat hoods they last ran into at the Proud Boys rally the week before. “Anybody have eyes on?” Oliver asks into their comms, his voice distorted.

“One of the traffic cameras on Canal Street picked up one,” Felicity says, furiously typing away to try to pinpoint their locations. “Near the intersection with Moldova. There’s another two off of Fitzwater, near the 8th Street bridge, she relays.”

“Dig and I will head to 8th Street. Ava, you and Sara take the one on Canal,” Oliver instructs the team as they split up.

“I never thought Starling could look like a war-zone,” Sara says softly as she and Ava make their way to where Felicity confirmed one of the copy-cats is located. Sara is clad in her signature Canary suit and Ava has her black leather jacket and helmet, completely concealing her identity. There are fires everywhere, and a sea of people holding signs calling for everything from justice for Colin Reid to the officers’ heads on spikes. 

All of a sudden the pair sees a police officer start shooting rubber bullets into the crowd of protesters. Screams fill the brisk night air as all hell breaks loose. Some protesters put up their hands in an act of concession while others start to rush the officers, reaching for their weapons and shields in an effort to make them stop. 

Movement out of the corner of her eye catches Ava’s attention as she sees the copy-cat hood attacking a female protester. He pushes her up against a nearby brick wall, and she lets out a scream of pure terror. Before the copy-cat can lay another hand on the woman, Ava jumps him, tackling him to the ground. “Get her to safety,” Ava instructs Sara through their comms as the copy-cat starts to recover. He draws a knife as he dances around Ava, trying to determine the best approach to attack her.

“Why are you attacking _us_? They’re the ones who’ve failed this city!” he yells at her through his voice disrupter, sounding hauntingly similar to Oliver. Ava ignores him as she tries to bait him into giving her an opportunity to disarm him. “A cop got shot last week...his killer is still at large,” the copy-cat continues. “My plant got shut down two months ago, putting hundreds out of work. I don’t remember seeing any of these people protesting then!” He rushes Ava who grabs his arm holding the knife and quickly jerks it behind his back. She hears a popping noise, knowing she’s dislocated his shoulder, and the knife falls to the ground, rattling as it lands. As he crumples to the ground clutching his limp arm, Ava kicks him hard, rendering him unconscious.

Ava reaches into her belt to pull out a zip tie and is about to start dragging the unconscious hood to a nearby utility pole. Across the street a young man who watched her encounter with the hood starts lining up a shot with his pistol, aiming for Ava’s back. He looks like a teenager, but he’s brandishing a rifle on his back in addition to the pistol in his right hand. Sara has returned and notices the scene, her heart skipping a beat at seeing Ava unknowingly in the cross-hairs of one of these freaks. She sneaks up behind the man and tackles him as he gets off a shot. Relief washes over Sara as she sees the bullet whiz past Ava, who ducks to the ground as quickly as she can. 

“Hey, get off me you bitch!” the young man yells at Sara, who elbows him, knocking him out. Satisfied that he’s not going anywhere for the moment, Sara rushes over to a stunned Ava and offers her hand to help her up. 

“Are you OK?” Sara asks as Ava gets to her feet.

A breathless Ava slides off her helmet, her blonde locks softly falling onto her shoulders. “You saved my life. Thank you,” she says softly as she locks eyes with Sara. It wasn’t the first time Ava had found herself in a sticky situation, and she and Oliver had saved each other from worse over the past several months. But something about their present circumstances felt different. Ava wasn’t sure if it was the surrealness of the protests or the fact that an angry teenager, better armed than most of the vigilantes she and Oliver regularly encountered, just tried to kill her. 

Sara’s breath hitches as she looks into Ava’s eyes, seeing real fear in there for the first time since the two met. She didn’t think Ava was afraid of anything, so seeing her look so vulnerable and small for the first time nearly brought a tear to her eye. Sara knows that Ava is married to her sister and how much they love each other, but she’s not sure if she’s ever seen someone so beautiful before.

Breaking out of their trance, Ava looks down to the two unconscious men at their feet and is about to say something else to Sara when they both hear Oliver through the comms, “Both of the copy-cat hoods are down. Felicity, any further signs of these guys?”

“You might want to come to Canal,” Sara says to Oliver. 

A few minutes later, Oliver and Diggle approach Sara and Ava who’ve tied up both men and disassembled their weapons. “Who’s this?” Oliver asks, referring to the unconscious teenager.

“He tried to shoot Ava after watching her take out the hood,” Sara explains. “We’re way past a couple of copy-cats, Ollie.”

“Seems we’ve emboldened a whole new generation of vigilantes,” Diggle laments as Oliver lets out a deep growl, enraged that their crusade to protect the city has resulted in so much senseless violence.

A while later Ava arrives home and does her best to sneak inside without waking Laurel. She looks at the kitchen clock and sees it’s past three in the morning. After kicking off her shoes and jacket, she’s about to head up the stairs towards their bedroom, when she notices Laurel fast asleep on the living room couch. The sight of her wife looking so peaceful brings a smile to Ava’s face, but it quickly fades when she sees the empty wine glass and bottle on the coffee table in front of her.


	4. This is me Trying

Clad in her Black Canary garb, Sara somersaults down from her perch in the Clocktower as she hears someone approaching. Before Ava has a chance to react, Sara, who’s hanging from one of the bars above her, has a knife pressed to her neck. “Ava?” Sara, who’s still upside down, asks surprised, clearly not expecting the other woman to show up at her hideout. “What are you doing here?”

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” Ava says softly between deep breaths. She’s disappointed in herself for letting Sara get the better of her twice now. “Would you mind lowering your arm?” she asks, discomfort apparent in her voice, as she can still feel the pressure from Sara’s blade digging into her neck.

“Sorry,” Sara mutters, as she complies, tucking her knife back into her jacket and flipping down so she’s face to face with Ava. Sara takes a minute to take in the taller woman’s appearance. There are dark circles under her eyes, which Sara only assumes are due to not being able to sleep much after what the team encountered the previous night. Instead of her typical all black ensemble highlighted by her black leather jacket or her horrid ‘bureau-issued’ pantsuit, Ava’s dressed in something softer, a tan leather jacket and skinny jeans that perfectly accentuate her-- _ stop thinking about your sister’s wife Sara! _ She mentally scolds herself. Realizing she’s starting to stare, Sara stammers out, “What can I do for you, Agent Sharpe?”

Ava takes a deep breath, happy that she no longer has to worry about Sara’s hand accidentally slipping. Oblivious to Sara not so subtly checking her out, Ava reaches for Sara’s mask, wanting to have this conversation, even if only briefly, without the craziness of their extracurricular activities. Sara’s never allowed anyone else to touch her mask before, but the moment Ava’s hands are on her skin, she feels a bolt of electricity unlike anything she’s ever known before. She slides off her wig too, and for a minute it’s like they’re the only two people in the universe. “I wanted to properly thank you for saving my life last night,” Ava explains, suddenly producing a fast food bag Sara didn’t realize she was holding. “Do you like breakfast tacos?” she asks, as she hands one to Sara.

“Uhm is the sky blue?” Sara asks rhetorically as she excitedly reaches for the taco. Breakfast tacos were a Lance sister tradition between her and Laurel when they were both in high school, but Sara doesn’t remember the last time she had one. She excitedly unwraps it and asks Ava, “Did you get any salsa to go with these?” Ava rolls her eyes and passes the bag of condiments over to Sara, who takes a huge bite once she’s properly dressed her taco. “Wow,” is all Sara can say as she inhales her taco. “I should save your life more often,” she teases as Ava just shakes her head.

“I also wanted to apologize,” Ava says, her voice growing serious. Sara looks at her curiously, unsure of what Ava would feel the need to apologize for. Ava looks down, and starts fidgeting with the foil wrapping of her taco, suddenly feeling a little awkward around Sara. “Things with Laurel have been really stressful the past few months,” she starts. “I hate having to lie to her all the time about my job and working with Oliver, and while I still think she deserves to know you’re alive, I took out some of my feelings on you. I shouldn’t have done that.” 

Sara smiles. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen someone look more adorable than Ava in that moment, and she hates that she’s starting to get this feeling in the pit of her stomach whenever she sees the other woman. She just wants to hold her in her arms. Sara imagines that Ava’s arms probably feel like the safest most comforting place in the whole world. A rustle behind them breaks Sara out of what she can only assume was a hallucination, because she wouldn’t really be thinking about Laurel’s wife like that, would she?

Shaken by the faint sound, both women abruptly turn and are met by a man clad entirely in black, with only a small slit at the top of his face revealing his eyes. “You shouldn’t have come here,” Sara warns him.

“I had no choice,” the man responds as he takes a step towards them, his voice cryptic and unfamiliar to both women. “Ra’s Al Ghul has ordered your return.”

“I’m not going back. I can’t,” Sara says defiantly, but Ava can see how much fear this man strikes into Sara. She’s never seen the other woman show fear of any kind. A million questions are running through Ava’s mind as she takes in the scene of Sara and this man, wondering how they are connected, and who this Ra’s Al Ghul person is.

“That is not your decision,” the man responds back threateningly.

“Tell them you couldn’t find me. Tell them, I ran,” Sara tries to tell this man, anything so that he’ll leave them alone. She knows she can’t return to the League with him, but she’s also afraid of what he might do to Ava.

“You know I can’t do that,” he says as he produces a knife and holds it menacingly at Sara. Instinct takes over Ava upon seeing the weapon as she pushes Sara out of the way and grabs the man’s hand holding the knife, using his own leverage against him to pin him up against her and quickly sliding the blade into the man, killing him instantly.

“Well I guess we’re even now,” Sara says as the man falls limply to the ground.

“Sara, who the hell was that? And who’s Ra’s Al Ghul?” Ava asks, her tone a combination of worry and frustration. Just when she thought they were starting to become friends, a reminder of how much she doesn’t know Sara interrupts their first actual conversation. A moment of silence passes with Sara unable to meet Ava’s gaze. “Are you seriously going to stonewall me?” Ava asks, the worry now gone, replaced by the anger from their earlier interactions. Met only with Sara’s silence, Ava lets out an exasperated grunt before turning to leave. She makes it halfway to the exit before stopping and turning back around to face Sara. “You haven’t left town yet, which means you want to trust someone. I’m here for you when you’re ready to talk, Sara.”

**Later that morning…**

Laurel is knee deep in files as she’s preparing the case against the four officers involved in Colin Reid’s death. There are folders and stacks of papers covering her desk, and another three bins worth of files detailing prior cases on the floor beside her desk. She’s so wrapped up in trying to prepare for her case that she doesn’t see her wife approach and nearly jumps when Ava greets her. “Hey babe, sorry we didn’t get a chance to talk last night,” Ava says as she places a cup of coffee down for Laurel.

“I don’t have time for another lecture,” Laurel replies curtly once she recovers from the initial surprise of being shaken from her thoughts of the case. Laurel doesn’t even look up from the note she’s making to face Ava or acknowledge the much needed burst of caffeine her wife has brought.

Ava’s brow crinkles at Laurel’s words and her unwillingness to even look at her. She knows Laurel is stressed, and that this case is really high profile, plus it’s under-resourced due to the simultaneous Moira Queen case. But she’s hurt that Laurel thinks the only reason she would come visit was to continue her lecture from the previous day’s lunch. Sure, Ava was concerned about her wife’s drinking habits lately, but wasn’t she allowed to just come visit and say hi? “Laurel, I know you’re busy, but can you please look at me, babe?” Ava asks, her voice soft but firm. “I promise, I’m not here for a lecture,” she adds when her wife doesn’t immediately comply.

Laurel lets out a deep sigh as she finishes up the note she’s making before putting her pen down and looking up at her wife. “What’s so important?” she asks impatiently.

Taken aback by Laurel’s tone, Ava continues now that she at least has her wife’s attention, “You were asleep when I got home, and when I woke up you were already gone.” Ava feels like she’s being cross-examined by her wife as she stares into Laurel’s eyes. She’s not sure when this gulf between them started. Everything used to be so effortless between them, and she never wondered what Laurel was thinking. “We haven’t been able to spend much time together lately, and I’m sorry for that. I thought--”

“You thought you’d come here and interrupt my work?” Laurel cuts in before Ava can finish. “Do you have any idea how much media attention and scrutiny this case is getting?” Laurel asks pointedly. “Did you know I have to give a press conference later to announce the charges we’re filing?”

“I didn’t mean to interrupt you,” Ava responds softly. “I just...I...it’s been a while since we’ve had a real conversation, and I missed you.” Ava hates showing vulnerability like this, especially in public, but needs Laurel to know how she’s really feeling, and that she wouldn’t just show up out of the blue at her work without a good reason. Her confession has little impact on her wife though, who is eager to get back to her case prep. Somehow feeling even more unsure about their relationship than when she arrived, Ava tries a different approach, hoping for some way that she can turn this conversation around. “How can I help? Should I come to the press conference this afternoon? Moral support?” she offers.

“Don’t bother. I’m sure you have classified briefings you need to attend,” comes Laurel’s short reply as she turns around to grab a file from one of the bins behind her desk. She doesn’t need Ava coddling her or making promises she knows she can’t keep.

Ava’s heart breaks at the detached tone in her wife’s voice, and a tear slides gently down her cheek. Realizing there’s no point in her staying there a second longer, Ava hopes their next interaction goes smoother. Taking a deep breath to calm her emotions, she lets out a soft, “Fine,” followed by an even softer, “I love you,” before turning to head out.

Feeling the urge to hit something, Ava hops on her motorcycle and speeds through Starling City to get to Verdant. She accelerates, hoping the adrenaline will help clear her mind, but all she can focus on is the recent conversations she’s had with the two Lance sisters. Ava wonders if she’s screwed things up too badly with both of them. She knows if she could get Sara to reveal herself to Laurel it would help her deal with everything she’s trying to work through in a way that Ava just can’t.

As she heads down the stairs of Verdant down to the Foundry, the sight before her makes Ava feel like she might be sick. A shirtless Oliver has his arms wrapped around Sara, who’s down to just her sports bra. The two are locked in a passionate embrace, and Ava wonders why seeing them look so intimate makes her feel like she wants to throw up. She considers heading back upstairs and avoiding the awkwardness of having to interrupt them, but the sight of the punching bag in the corner is too big of a temptation.

Ava clears her throat as she descends the final few stairs, shrugging off her jacket onto a nearby stool and sliding on a pair of gloves. As Ava starts landing punch after punch against the bag, Sara pushes Oliver away, unsure of why she feels a sudden sense of embarrassment and guilt knowing Ava saw the two of them together. Sara didn’t exactly mean to end up making out with Oliver, but after her close call with the League that morning, not to mention how Ava saved her life, she found herself in need of some comfort. She came so close to explaining to Ava about the League and what happened to her over the past five years, but she was afraid of what Ava would think about her. The way she looked at her, like she believed in her as a force for good was something Sara wanted to hold onto for as long as possible. 

Ignoring Sara who’s clearly deep in thought over something, Oliver approaches Ava and tentatively asks, “How did things go with Waller?”

Ava nearly takes off Oliver’s head as she swings her foot around at the bag, landing a powerful kick with her boot. She admittedly should have changed into more appropriate workout gear, but the need to work out her frustrations overruled comfort. “She needs more proof that Slade’s alive,” Ava responds, trying to keep her voice even, but her overwhelming annoyance and frustration are apparent.

“OK,” Oliver treads lightly, wanting to help his friend who’s clearly torn up about something, “did she say anything about additional ARGUS support or resources?”

“You’re looking at her,” Ava responds dryly as she lands a sequence of jabs against the bag. It’s a familiar callback to their first mission together. Ava takes a deep breath and takes one more powerful swing at the punching bag, before turning back to face Sara. “What do you think about telling me more about what happened with Slade on Lian Yu?” she asks as Felicity and Diggle join the trio.

Sara looks hesitantly at Oliver, trying to gauge his reaction to see how much they should divulge to the rest of the team. The look between the two of them does not escape the rest of the team as Felicity adds, “It might help me gather more info on where he might be located. No offense Sara, but what you told us earlier wasn’t exactly helpful in creating search parameters.”

Sara lets out a deep breath knowing she and Oliver owe their partners the full story. She’s just been so haunted by her past, and being surrounded by people who genuinely care about her is new. Sara’s so afraid of somehow screwing that up. Pushing those doubts aside, she begins to explain, “Slade was in love with Shado, so her death devastated him. He blamed Ollie for choosing to protect me, but he also blamed me because he knew that Shado had feelings for Ollie. I guess he felt like I manipulated Ollie into caring more about me than Shado.”

Sara’s description of what happened the night Ivo killed Shado sends a chill down Ava’s spine as she pictures that mad man holding a gun to Sara’s head. She can only imagine what she would’ve done if she were there and someone threatened to hurt her. Shaking those thoughts away, Ava asks, “Well, yea, but Ivo is the one who pulled the trigger. Why wasn’t Slade’s anger more directed at him than the two of you?”

“Slade never thought I was strong enough,” Oliver explains, his voice melancholy and full of perspective the years since the event have brought him. “I should’ve done more to prevent us from ending up in that situation to begin with,” he says as he looks at Sara as if to apologize for putting her in Slade’s crosshairs. 

“Ollie, it wasn’t your fault,” Sara says, hoping he doesn’t still blame himself all these years later. “The mirakuru warped Slade’s mind and drove him insane and obsessed with hurting us the way he had been hurt.”

Ava’s been trying to concentrate on what Oliver and Sara have been explaining, but her thoughts keep wandering back to her wife and how worried she is about Laurel’s state of mind. “Sara, I think you should reconsider revealing yourself to Laurel.” Ava feels her eyes starting to get the familiar sting of tears threatening to fall and adds quietly, “Whatever happened in your past, your future is here.”

Sara wants to tell Laurel and her father that she’s alive. She checks on them every day, making sure they get home from work OK, and sometimes, even to just watch them at home. She misses them so much and wants nothing more than to hold them in her arms. “I can’t,” is all Sara can get out before turning around so her back is to the rest of the team. She tries to hold back the tears she knows are threatening to fall as she can feel her cheeks starting to flush.

“Sara, it’s been weeks since you’ve been back,” Ava reminds her. “You would not have stayed this long if you didn’t intend on revealing yourself, so do it now, while you can still make a difference in their lives. They need you, Sara,” Ava pleads, hoping she can get through to the other woman, who stands, unmoved with her back to the group. Not wanting to let Sara off the hook, Ava pushes further, “And would that decision have anything to do with the man who showed up at the Clocktower this morning?”

“What’s she talking about Sara?” Oliver asks as he, Diggle, and Felicity all look at Ava and Sara inquisitively.

Not wanting to get into everything about the League with the entire team at that moment, Sara does the only thing she can think to do and runs upstairs to an empty Verdant. Ava’s right behind her though and grabs Sara’s arm as she’s about to reach the exit. “You can’t run for the rest of your life, Sara,” an out of breath Ava says. “Eventually you have to let someone in.”

Sara looks up into Ava’s beautiful blue eyes. The intensity that Sara has come to expect and admire is there, as always, but this time there’s something there she never noticed before. There’s a concern, or an understanding, like Ava has her own demons and experiences of not being the person her family needs her to be. Sara feels her guard drop for just a second, and as she’s about to explain her past to Ava, they both hear a loud knocking coming from just outside Verdant.

Ava shakes her head as she lets out a deep sigh, feeling she was about to get through to Sara, only for them to be interrupted. “I’ll get rid of them,” she offers as she heads for the door.

Opening the door slightly, Ava sticks her head out and is met by Quentin. “Detective Lance?”

“Hi,” he says nervously. He clearly has a number of thoughts running through his head and needs to speak to his daughter-in-law.

Sara whips around at the sound of her father. She’s been keeping a close eye on him, but this is the closest she’s been to him in over five years and feels both a deep fear of him finding out that she’s there as well as joy at being able to hear his voice so clearly.

“Something I can help you with?” Ava asks tentatively as she closes the door behind her, careful to obscure any view Quentin may have at who’s in the room directly behind her.

“I’m here about my daughter...” Quentin says as he approaches her. Ava’s breath catches in her throat at his words and tries to hide her fear that he found out about Sara on his own. “...Laurel.”

Ava tries to hide her relief before remembering how worried she’s been about her wife. As Quentin explains about Laurel getting pulled over the night before and confronting her about it, Sara approaches the door to better hear her father’s voice. She can’t help but think he looks good, but that she’s worried about Laurel and is starting to understand why Ava has been pushing so hard to get her to reveal herself to them.

“Can you get her to a meeting?” Quentin pleads, knowing his daughter needs help and that she’ll be more willing to accept it from her wife than from him.

“Yea, first thing tomorrow, I’ll get her to one, Detective,” Ava promises. She had no idea about Laurel getting pulled over while they were at the protests, and realizes she needs to take more drastic steps than she has been. Laurel has never lied to her before, and Ava is even more worried about her wife than she was following their encounter at Laurel’s office.

“It’s Quentin,” he says with a small smile. “Anyhow,” he says, before turning around to head out.

“Quentin?” Ava asks, desperately wanting to tell him about Sara. The redness around his eyes didn’t escape her notice, and she knows that news of Sara would reinvigorate him like nothing else in the world.

“Yea?” he asks, unsure of what else Ava could have to add.

Sara steels herself, bracing for Ava to admit that she’s alive. She wonders what she would do if Ava actually gave her away to her father. For a minute or two things would probably be wonderful. He’d hold her in his arms, and she might allow herself, for however briefly, to imagine that the world isn’t a terrible place, and that she could be happy.

“Um...I’ll make sure Laurel gets the help she needs,” Ava says, suddenly losing her nerve. As much as she knows Quentin deserves to know about Sara, it’s not her secret to tell, and she has to respect Sara’s wishes, no matter how much it hurts.

“Thanks,” Quentin says quickly before leaving. 

Ava heads back inside Verdant, closing the door behind her and taking a deep breath as she closes her eyes. When she opens them, she’s surprised to find Sara still there. “I’m sorry...for pushing you earlier,” Ava begins, still reeling from her interaction with Quentin. She can’t imagine how Sara must be dealing with having come so close to her father after all this time. 

Sara takes a step towards Ava as she tells her, “You didn’t tell him.” It’s more of a question really, but Sara was convinced Ava was going to give her away.

“It wasn’t my secret to tell,” Ava says softly as she looks into Sara’s eyes, needing the calm they’ve come to provide her when things seem out of her control. Sara puts her arms around Ava as the taller blonde returns her embrace, their lips coming dangerously close to meeting as Oliver can be heard shouting from across the club that there are more protests in The Glades that evening.


	5. A Figment of my Worst Intentions

Ava speeds through the quiet streets of Starling City as she makes her way home from the Foundry. It’s just before dawn, and her wife has had a habit of leaving for her office prior to Ava returning home from her evening exploits with Team Arrow, so she’s doing her best to make sure they can actually have a conversation this morning. 

The team had just wrapped up another rough night as protests rocked the city. More “citizen deputies” as they called themselves, young, mostly white men, heavily armed, showed up to, in their words, “protect businesses from looting.” Ava and the rest of Team Arrow fully supported business owners in the path of the protests wanting to protect their property, but most of the looting, the team noticed, was instigated by these citizen deputies. The protesters remained overwhelmingly peaceful, despite the Starling City PD’s unnecessary use of force.

Letting go a huge sigh of relief as she pulls her bike into her driveway, Ava sees Laurel’s car still parked, indicating she’s made it home in time to catch her wife before she heads out. Ava barely has the chance to remove her helmet before Laurel comes strolling out the door. “Babe,” an out of breath Ava starts, “I know you have a busy day ahead of you, but just hear me out for five minutes.”

Laurel puts her briefcase in the passenger seat of her car before turning around to face her wife, “Fine, but I have jury selection today, and I need all the time I can get for additional prep. Did you drag race here?” she adds the last bit as she takes in Ava’s appearance and notes how out of breath her wife is.

“I...spoke to Quentin last night,” Ava tentatively begins as she takes a deep breath, knowing this is a sensitive subject. “Why didn’t you tell me about getting pulled over?”

Laurel rolls her eyes as she mutters, “Sorry I’m not perfect like you. Some of us are just trying to deal with all the stress in their lives the best way we know how.”

Taken aback by Laurel’s tone, Ava tries to explain, “I would’ve picked you up. I...I’m worried about you,” she says softly as she approaches Laurel, wrapping her hands around her wife’s waist. 

Laurel lets out a deep sigh as she stares into her wife’s eyes. Knowing that Ava is just trying to help, she softens slightly. “It was just a slip, I promise,” Laurel offers through a small smile as she leans in to place a soft kiss on her wife’s lips. 

It had been far too long since Ava and Laurel had been intimate, and Ava savors the taste of her wife on her lips for a few moments before she opens her eyes. Suddenly struck by an idea, an uncharacteristically impulsive Ava blurts out, “Let’s get out of town for a few days.”

Whatever interim peace has settled over the pair immediately evaporates when Laurel hears her wife’s suggestion. “Were you listening to me at all when I told you everything I have on my plate today?” Laurel asks, hurt that Ava doesn’t seem to care or thinks that she can just pass it off to another lawyer. She quickly wiggles out of Ava’s grasp as she heads back towards her car.

“Babe, ugh,” Ava manages to get out, frustrated that her idea, which sounded romantic in her head, must’ve come out as insensitive to her wife. “That’s not what I meant. I just, I know we haven’t spent much time together lately, and things in the city are crazy. I thought we could both use some time away.”

“I don’t want to run away from our problems!” Laurel shouts back as dawn has settled upon them. 

“So fight,” Ava begs her, reaching for her wife’s hand to give it a gentle squeeze of support. “Let me at least get you to a meeting. When do you have a break in your busy schedule?”

A tear escapes Laurel’s right eye and slides down her cheek as she sniffles trying to hold back the others she knows are threatening to fall. “I don’t know how,” she gets out softly before turning away from Ava and getting into her car. All Ava can do is watch as her wife speeds away, unwilling to talk to her about her problems.

Feeling the need to call in reinforcements, Ava heads to the Queen mansion to talk to Oliver.  _ Maybe he can get through to her in a way that I can’t, _ an exhausted Ava thinks to herself as she hops back on her bike and speeds across town.

“Sara?” Ava asks when she runs into the other woman upon entering the Queen mansion. In her haste she had forgotten the other woman was staying there with Oliver. 

“Hi,” Sara greets her, and, when she sees a tinge of disappointment in the other woman’s features, adds, “Were you looking for Oliver?”

“Um...” Ava starts, her brow furrowed. She needs to talk to someone about Laurel, but she isn’t sure Sara is the best person for that conversation. She hates to admit it to herself, but she has become rather fond of Sara’s company. Feeling torn, Ava didn’t want Sara to think she didn’t want to see her, but she also didn’t want to unload her marital problems onto Sara. She decides to go with a soft, “I can come back later,” as she turns to leave.

“Wait,” Sara implores as she grabs her hand. Ava feels a warmth spread from the point of contact with Sara, silently hoping that comforting feeling won’t ever go away. Sara can tell the other woman has a lot on her mind, and despite how infuriating she found her originally, she has to admit that Ava has grown on her. “Maybe I can listen to whatever is bothering you?” Sara offers softly, not wanting to have to say goodbye to Ava so soon.

A small smile forms over Ava’s worried features as her facial expression relaxes at Sara’s offer. Maybe offering some details about what’s going on with Laurel could convince Sara to tell her family she’s alive. 

“Can I get you something? Tea? Coffee?” Sara asks as Ava follows her into the parlor. 

“Is it too early for bourbon?” Ava jokes, eliciting a smirk from Sara. 

After a few minutes Sara brings over a kettle of earl gray tea and two mugs, offering one to Ava. Ava takes a deep breath and inhales the soothing aroma, allowing it to slightly relax her tense nerves. She takes a minute to look at Sara, who she’s seeing for perhaps the first time, outside of her signature Canary suit. She’s wearing a plain long sleeve blue shirt that perfectly matches her eyes and a pair of skinny jeans, complemented by her black boots. “What’s on your mind?” Sara asks, breaking Ava out of her trance.

“I’m worried about Laurel,” Ava says, not meaning to be so blunt about it, but also not knowing how else to broach the subject. She takes a sip of her tea and continues, “I’ve barely seen her these past few weeks, and when I have, she’s been...like a stranger. She’s combative and defensive and...it’s like no matter what I say or do, she doesn’t want to talk to me.” Ava sniffles as she thinks back to their conversation that morning and how defeated Laurel looked when she got in the car. 

Unable to continue listening to Ava describe the situation with Laurel at such a distance, Sara gets up from her seat and crosses the parlor to sit next to Ava. Sara wraps her arms around the other woman, who’s slightly surprised by her actions at first, but eventually melts into Sara’s strong arms. Sara’s not sure how long she holds Ava in her arms, but she never wants to stop. “She got pulled over last night,” Ava continues softly. “She blew way past the legal limit...if your dad hadn’t been there, I don’t know what would’ve happened.” Ava takes a minute to consider her next words carefully, but decides if it can get through to Sara, it’ll be worth it. “She could really use her sister right now,” she adds quietly as she looks up at Sara.

_ Wow, those eyes _ , is all Sara can think as she stares back at Ava. The way she looks at Sara, with so much hope and admiration, breaks Sara’s heart. She’s afraid of Ava seeing her as the ruthless, coldblooded killer she is. Overcome with competing desires of wanting to pull Ava into a kiss and running away, Sara abruptly lets go of Ava and stands up shaking her head. “I can’t,” she says in a familiar refrain, her voice full of emotion.

“Is it...is it because of what happened on the island?” Ava pushes tentatively as she gets up from the couch to approach Sara.

Sara scoffs before divulging, “No. After.” Sara takes a deep breath, realizing she can’t continue to lie to Ava. “There are things I did..things that I had to do to survive,” she manages to get out, not willing to look Ava in the eyes, not wanting to see her disappointment and fear. “Things that there’s no forgiveness for,” Sara finishes as she can feel wetness start to pool in her eyes.

Ava reaches down to place a finger under Sara’s chin, bringing her eyes up to meet her own. “Well that’s the thing about forgiveness, Sara,” she says with a smile. “You can’t get it until you ask for it.”

All of a sudden the glass window behind the pair shatters as another man, clad in the exact same dark outfit as the one from the prior morning at the Clocktower, crashes through, landing in front of them with his sword drawn. The man engages both women as they attempt to fend off his blade but realize they need to retreat to a room that will afford them some makeshift weapons. Sara grabs the wooden pole above the entrance to the living room, and wields it as a replacement bo staff. She manages to get a few good licks in until the assassin slices his sword through the middle, rendering it useless. As the man elbows Sara, Ava reaches for the closest weapon she can find, a brass candlestick holder and swings it wildly. She’s able to land a few swings at his ribs and head, but she’s also concentrating on having to dodge his sword. Finally he gives her an opening, and she throws him over the couch. He crashes onto the wooden table, falling hard to the ground. 

Ava takes the opportunity to pull his hood off, not recognizing the older man. “Who are you?” she asks, out of breath, doing her best to exert an air of intimidation, although she’s terrified that this is the second man in as many days she’s encountered who’s come looking for Sara and willing to die to get to her.

“Just a warrior,” the man spits out, a trail of blood running from his mouth. He turns to look towards Sara, who’s on the ground, trying to recover from the blows he inflicted. A small trickle of blood runs from her nose.

“Did Ra’s Al Ghul send you?” Ava asks angrily as the man throws one of his knives up at the chandelier, sending it crashing down towards Sara. A helpless Ava can only watch as Sara rolls away at the last second, barely avoiding the crashing glass. When the two look at the spot the assassin was just sitting in, they find it’s now empty.

**Later at the Foundry…**

“Woah! Ava, I thought you two were starting to get along?” Oliver asks as she and Sara come strolling down the stairs. He immediately gets up and goes to Sara to inspect her bloody nose and make sure she doesn’t have any other injuries.

As Oliver looks around for an ice pack to give to Sara, Ava glares at Sara. “Do you want to tell them or should I?” she asks with arched eyebrows. The ride from the mansion to the Foundry was quiet and full of more tension than even their first meeting, as Ava is tiring of Sara’s lies. When Sara just places the ice pack on her nose and doesn’t say anything, Ava starts to explain, “We just had an uninvited guest at the Queen mansion. Well-trained. Highly skilled,” she finishes with a deep sigh of frustration.

“Are you OK?” Oliver asks, concerned, looking at Ava. “What were you doing at the mansion?”

“I’m fine,” Ava reassures him. “I was looking for you, but...it’s not important right now,” she trails off as she’s become so consumed with worry about Sara that her earlier concern over Laurel seems like a bad dream.

“Well, who was this guy? Did he leave any clues about what he was doing there or what he wanted?” Oliver asks, trying to figure out if this person was after him, his family, or the vigilante.

Ava just continues to glare over at Sara expectantly, making it clear she’s not budging until Sara starts explaining things to the team.

Sara takes a deep breath and shakes her head, knowing she has to tell the team about this man and her past. “He’s called Al Ow-al. ‘The First’. And he’s a member of the League of Assassins.”

“Wait, wait,” Diggle interjects, confused. “The League of Assassins? I thought they were a myth,” he says in disbelief. 

“What’s the League of Assassins?” Felicity asks, feeling more confused than anyone. “And please, don’t say it’s a league made up of assassins.”

While Diggle explains what he’s heard about them, Ava takes a deep breath as she walks away from the team towards the other end of the Foundry. She can’t look at Sara right now. All she knows is how betrayed she feels. She thought she and Sara were starting to trust each other, and now, it turns out she’s been part of a group ARGUS has been hunting for years. 

Sara watches Ava try to process all of this. This reaction from her, and Oliver, were exactly what she was hoping to avoid and why she didn’t tell any of them about her past sooner. She knew they would never see her the same way again.

“That’s where you’ve been the past four years,” Oliver says, still in disbelief at how Sara’s spent her time. “That’s where you learned to fight. You’re one of them,” he adds softly.

Sara nods, but she’s not focused on Oliver. Her glance goes right past him and over his left shoulder to the tall blonde who’s back is still to her. Sara would give anything for Ava to just turn around and look at her, give her some clue or acknowledgment that they could somehow move past this and find a way to still be...whatever it was she felt when she was holding Ava in her arms that morning.

Realizing she’s just fooling herself with that line of thinking, Sara begins to explain, her eyes never leaving Ava’s back, “After the freighter, a member of the league rescued me, took me in, and brought me to Nanda Parbat. They remade me into what I am,” Sara says, her lower lip slightly trembling at recalling her time with the League. “And I swore them my allegiance.”

“Why are they kicking down doors trying to find you now?” Diggle asks, concerned about what this new presence in their city means for everyone.

“Because I left. And there’s only one way you leave the League…” Sara trails off.

Still with her back to Sara, Ava shakes her head as she tries to sort through everything she’s feeling. Sara didn’t owe her an explanation, and it certainly makes sense now why she’s been so hesitant to reveal herself to her family. Not to mention, their encounter with the other League member from the prior morning now fits, and Ava assumes Ra’s Al Ghul must be the leader of the League. Ava takes a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves before turning around to face the team. “Is that why you didn’t want to see your family?” she asks, her voice low, her anger apparent just beneath the surface.

Sara can see the redness in Ava’s eyes as the cold stare from their first encounter in the Foundry is back. She crosses her arms as she breaks eye contact, not wanting to see the anger and disappointment grow at what she’s about to tell them next. “A year ago, I was in Guyana. I was sent there for a man named Suarez. He was a local diplomat. And I slit his throat...in his bed. And his kids. They found his body in the morning.” Sara takes a deep breath, turning back to look towards Ava again. “I’m a murderer.” 

All Ava knew of Sara from before the two ever met was what Laurel and Oliver had told her. She seemed like such a carefree spirit, unburdened by responsibilities, and completely enchanted by the mystery of what lay ahead for her. The woman in front of her now was none of those things. On one hand Ava could relate. She had done things, unspeakable things, in her past that she could never tell Laurel about. She knew the experience of having to follow orders you don’t agree with in order to survive. She just wishes Sara would’ve felt comfortable opening up to her and telling her, instead of having to find out this way.

“You think that my family will be happy to see me?” Sara asks.

Before anyone can respond, both Oliver and Ava’s phones start buzzing. “I have to go to Iron Heights,” Oliver explains as he lets out a frustrated sigh. 

“It’s Waller. I have to go too,” Ava says quietly.

“Felicity, find this Al Ow-al,” Oliver instructs as he and Ava head for the exit, both still trying to sort out all of their feelings and questions about Sara.

Later that afternoon in the Foundry…

“I’m sorry if I upset you before,” Sara says to Felicity.

“We all join clubs we wish we hadn’t,” Felicity responds nonchalantly. “It took me a year to get out of that gym membership.”

Sara can’t help but chuckle, thankful for the other woman’s levity. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Not making me feel like what I am.”

Just then Ava and Oliver come down the stairs of the Foundry, neither in a better mood than when they left. “How did it go with your mother?” Diggle asks.

“Not well,” comes Oliver’s terse reply. “Have you found somebody for me to hit yet?” he asks, clearly eager to exercise some of his frustrations.

“Could be. Spectro analysis of the dirt from your house found trace amounts of Aldicarb in them,” Felicity explains as she takes a seat at her monitor.

“What?” Oliver asks, clearly annoyed.

“It’s a pesticide,” Felicity begins. “Starling City used to have its own Aldicarb plant, but per the EPA, it was shut down three years ago,” she continues as she brings up the satellite feed of the plant.

“What’s it being used for now?” Ava asks, having spoken up for the first time since arriving.

“Nothing. It’s abandoned,” comes the prompt reply from Felicity. “But my guess is, it’s the home base to one League of Assassins assassin.”

Ava moves to grab her vigilante helmet when Sara grabs her hand. “He will kill you,” Sara says forcefully, afraid of what could happen to the other woman once they find Al Ow-al.

“I seem to remember being the one who saved you from not one but two of these guys,” Ava says dismissively as she shakes her hand away. 

But Sara won’t back down. “This is my fight, Ava,” she says back, determination apparent in her voice as she locks eyes with the taller woman.

Ava stares back, equally unwilling to yield. She takes a breath and explains, “He made it my fight when he threatened someone that I care about.” With that Ava moves to change into her vigilante suit.

“You’re not alone anymore, Sara,” Oliver explains as he puts a reassuring hand on her shoulder before changing into his Arrow suit.

**At the abandoned Aldicarb plant…**

Al Ow-al sharpens his sword as he stands in the empty building. A small smile forms across his lips as the lights above him flicker, and he reaches behind his head to grasp an arrow right before it embeds itself in the back of his head. “Arrows,” he says with a smug smile. “Such an ineffective projectile. I find it strange anyone still fears them,” he shouts as he walks towards the source of the arrow.

“I’ll show you why...if you don’t leave Sara Lance alone!” Oliver shouts back in his Arrow voice. “This is your only warning.”

“And it would be effective,” Al Ow-al starts as he approaches Oliver, “were you to pose a threat to me.”

“It helps that I didn’t come alone,” Oliver says back threateningly as Sara and Ava can be seen on the catwalks above the assassin.

“The child of Ra’s Al Ghul awaits your return,” Al Ow-al says as he turns to face Sara.

“I’m not going back,” she says defiantly, holding her bo staff behind her, eager to engage.

“That’s not your choice,” the assassin responds. “I have orders to return you...alive or dead.”

“You’re not going to kill me.”

“You overestimate your importance. Regardless, you’re coming back with us,” the assassin insists.

“Us?!” Oliver growls.

“Like you, I did not come alone,” Al Ow-al says menacingly as two additional assassins crawl out to meet Sara and Ava on the catwalks.

Oliver shoots another arrow at Al Ow-al as Sara and Ava engage with the other men. Despite their best efforts, Ava and Sara are quickly overmatched. Oliver manages to cut through a gas line and momentarily stun Al Ow-al, allowing the three of them to escape.

“If you do not return willingly, you will stay to bury your family,” Al Ow-al shouts after them.

Not long after their failed attempt at taking out the League of Assassins, Oliver, Sara, and Ava arrive back at the Foundry. 

“Well that was fast,” Felicity comments as the trio joins her and Diggle. “Either it went really well or...really poorly, and based on your facial expressions, I’m gonna guess poorly. And I’m going to stop talking now,” she rambles awkwardly. 

Ava slides off her helmet and leather jacket, causing Oliver’s eyes to go wide at the sight of her back. “Ava, you’re bleeding!” Oliver says as he lifts up her shirt to reveal a cut across her lower back. “Dig, can you grab me the first aid kit?” he asks Diggle who’s already on his way.

_ Because this day hadn’t sucked enough already _ , Ava thinks to herself at hearing Oliver’s concern. She vaguely remembers one of the assassins getting a good jab in at her back while she and Sara were desperately fighting to fend them off, but since she didn’t feel anything at the time, she just assumed it didn’t penetrate her jacket. 

“It’s not that deep, but let me stitch you up,” Oliver says softly as he places a gentle hand on her shoulder. Ava hisses in pain as he brings a gauze pad over to put pressure on her wound. 

Sara can only watch as Oliver cleans her cut. For the first time she notes the various scars that decorate Ava’s back, noting she’s had most of them for much longer than she’s been working with Oliver. She never wants to be responsible for another of Ava’s scars. 

“Done,” whispers Oliver as he places a hand on Ava’s shoulder. She reaches for her jacket to inspect the damage, and upon finding the rather large slit in the side, feeling the need to lighten the mood in the room, she teases, “Can I expense a replacement?”

Oliver smiles, but it’s fading. Leave it to Ava to make jokes when she’s hurt. He knows their work is far from over. “We need to protect the Lances,” he says, addressing the entire team. “Felicity, can you talk to Quentin?”

She nods as Ava speaks up, “I’ll head home to see Laurel.” Ava tries her best to hide the wince that accompanies her assertion, but it doesn’t escape Oliver or Sara. 

“You’re hurt, and you need to stay here,” he says protectively. 

“It’s probably just as well,” Ava relents. “I’m not exactly her favorite person right now,” she adds softly. 

“Is that why you came to the mansion earlier?” Oliver asks. Ava takes a deep breath as she nods, hating to admit that she’s not the best person to help her wife right now. But she trusts Oliver more than anyone when it comes to protecting Laurel.

**Later that night at Verdant…**

Ava’s not sure how long she’s been sitting at the bar or even how many shots she’s had. She’s beginning to wonder if there’s enough liquor in the world to help her forget how royally she’s screwed things up with her wife. She just keeps replaying their conversation from that morning over again in her head. When she finally does manage to stop obsessing over Laurel, her thoughts drift to Sara, and the worry of what the League will do to her eats at her even more. “Thea, can I get another?” she asks as she holds up her empty shot glass.

Before Thea can respond, a figure approaches Ava, and grabbing her by the arm says, “Outside. Now,” Quentin says as he approaches her. One look from Quentin is enough to sober Ava immediately as she follows him outside Verdant. 

Once the pair are alone, Quentin unloads on Ava, “We stood in this exact spot last night, and you lied to my goddamn face.” His voice is a mixture of anger and pain as he expresses all of the pent up emotions he’s been holding onto since his dinner with Sara earlier that evening.

For her part, all Ava can do is stand there and listen. She knows she can’t defend her actions to a father who’s been robbed of precious time with his daughter. She looks Quentin in the eyes, knowing she owes him at least that much, doing her best to hold off the tears she knows are threatening to fall. She knew at some point this moment would come, but it doesn’t make it any easier.

“She’s been alive for weeks...working with you and the Arrow...defending the protesters,” he says as he puts a hand over his face, still pained by the fact that his daughter-in-law would not tell him that Sara was alive. “If it weren’t for these assassin guys, would I even know about her?” he asks, his voice growing louder. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” he says when he’s only met by Ava’s silence. 

Quentin takes a deep breath to try to calm his nerves. Satisfied he’s said his peace and gotten his feelings off his chest, he turns to leave. He makes it a few steps before turning back to face Ava and says, this time his tone softer, “She told me you saved her life, twice. That’s the only reason I’m not breaking our deal about telling Laurel about you.”

As Quentin walks away Ava takes a deep breath, trying to steady herself from the onslaught of emotions from their interaction. Before she has a minute to fully process everything, she hears a voice in her ear, “Ava, the League is on their way to Sara at the Clocktower. You’re the closest to her.”

“I’m on my way,” Ava responds as she quickly makes her way to her motorcycle and speeds off towards Sara.

“I wasn’t sure I’d see you again after earlier,” Sara says, her voice low, as Ava enters the Clocktower. 

“We don’t have much time,” a breathless Ava explains. 

“You’re out of time,” Al Ow-al says as he and the other two members of the League appear behind Ava and Sara. “Did you really think we would not find you here?”

“No. I knew you would,” Sara challenges the League as she twirls her bo staff, engaging Al Ow-al while Ava shoots at the other two. The women fight the three members of the League to the best of their abilities, the room filled with only the sounds of grunting, swords clanging, and bullets ricocheting. 

Finally, Ava manages to get a shot off at one of the assassins, instantly killing him, while Sara gets Al Ow-al into a chokehold with her bo staff. “You think...because you are the beloved...you will be granted your freedom,” the man struggles to get out as he fights against Sara. 

“There’s only one freedom,” Sara tells him as she puts further pressure on his windpipe. “Let me grant you yours,” she says as she snaps his neck, the man falling dead at her feet. Unsatisfied, Sara marches over to where the third assassin lies stunned on the floor, and yanks him to his feet, caught in the same death grip she had Al Ow-al in only seconds before.

“You don’t have to do this, Sara!” Ava yells, still breathing deeply and trying to process what she’s just seen from Sara. “It’s over!”

“Not yet,” Sara responds as she drags the man towards her, her staff pressed firmly against his neck. “Tell Ra’s Al Ghul that my family is off limits. His quarrel is with me,” she tells him harshly.

Ava doesn’t see the knife until it’s too late. As Sara lets up on the remaining assassin to allow him to leave and deliver her message to Ra’s Al Ghul, he unsheathes a knife and plunges it into Sara’s shoulder. Ava fires her gun at the man’s retreating form, hitting him somewhere non-lethal as he makes his escape out of the Clocktower.

Ava drops her gun and rushes to Sara’s side, overcome with concern for the other woman. She examines the wound, unsure of what to do for perhaps the first time in her life. “Just pull it out,” Sara says through gritted teeth. 

Ava looks at her with eyes full of concern. “But what if...I don’t want to hurt you…” she trails off as Sara’s stare implores her to pull the knife out of her shoulder. Taking a deep breath, Ava starts to count, “On three? One,” and then she pulls it out. She’s not sure who’s screaming, her or Sara or both of them, but she tears off her shirt and presses it firmly against Sara’s shoulder. Ava gently leads Sara over to the makeshift bed Sara has set up and adjusts Sara’s right hand to replace her own, holding her shirt over Sara’s left shoulder. Ava starts rummaging through Sara’s things, looking for anything that would suffice as a suture kit.

Sara directs Ava to the bottom shelf of one of a nearby table, where Ava finds a bottle of vodka, bandages, and a suture kit. She returns to the bed and helps Sara remove her shirt, so she can take a better look at her wound, not oblivious to Sara’s immaculately toned arms and abs. “You’ve done this before, right?” Sara says with a small laugh, trying anything to cut the obvious tension in the room.

“Once or twice,” Ava says back, trying not to let her voice betray how afraid she is. 

As Ava starts working on Sara, she suddenly hears Felicity in her ear, “How’s Sara? Should I send Oliver to you two for back-up?”

Ava locks eyes with Sara, silently asking her what she wants to do. “No. The League has been neutralized,” is all Ava says, after she and Sara come to the same conclusion.

Once Ava gets Sara all patched up, she takes a seat next to her on the bed. It’s been more than thirty-six hours since Ava last slept, but as she looks at Sara, clad in only her sports bra, only one thing is on her mind. She brings Sara into her arms, holding her the way Sara did for her that morning, careful not to put any pressure on her shoulder.

Sara melts into Ava’s embrace as she feels the comfort and warmth of the other woman slowly envelop her. Despite what they’ve been through that day alone, Sara doesn’t think she’s ever felt more at peace or that there is anywhere else in the world she belongs more than in Ava’s arms. She can feel her pulse quicken and a warm feeling spread from the bottom of her stomach as she looks up at Ava. As if to ask for permission, Sara slowly leans in toward Ava so their faces are only inches apart. Feeling Ava lean into her, Sara crashes her lips against Ava’s, savoring the taste of the woman she’s been craving. Ava lets out a soft moan as Sara deepens the kiss. Before either has time to process what’s happening, each woman is undoing the other’s belt and tugging at their pants as they fall onto the bed, getting lost in each other’s touch.


	6. All of my Cages were Mental

Ava lets out a soft moan as the sunshine comes streaming in through the broken glass of the Clocktower, interrupting her unusually easy sleep. She reaches for her phone on the night table and is confused when there is no night table. She’s also sleeping on the left side of the bed...she always sleeps on the right side. Laurel insists the left side is cooler and _has_ to sleep there. Suddenly Ava can feel the hand that’s currently draped over brush across her arm. She absent mindedly caresses it with her own but stops suddenly when she feels multiple rings on the hand, realizing it cannot possibly belong to Laurel. Her eyes burst open, and she slowly rotates on the bed to her right. A smile forms on Ava’s lips as she takes in the sight of Sara sleeping peacefully, her hair tousled and the tiniest bit of drool escaping her slightly parted lips. Ava wonders if Sara has any idea how adorable she looks when she’s asleep, and for the briefest of moments, allows herself to just enjoy lying in Sara’s arms.

Suddenly all of Ava’s memories from the previous night flood her vision. First she’s helping Sara defeat the League of Assassins, then she’s patching up Sara’s shoulder, then...Sara’s on top of her, nibbling on her neck, her nipples, her… “Fuck!” she mutters as she bolts upright, instantly awake. 

Ava reaches for her clothes on the floor, doing her best not to make too much noise and wake Sara. As much as she would enjoy never leaving this bed, Ava knows she needs to talk to Laurel and figure out what the hell she’s going to do. She gets too caught up in her own neurotic thoughts that she doesn’t hear Sara stir behind her. “Leaving so soon?” she asks through a yawn.

Ava nearly falls over from the surprise of hearing Sara’s voice as she turns around to face the other woman, needing to brace herself on the chest behind her. A snort escapes Sara as she’s never seen Ava look so clumsy or unsure of herself. The sun catches Ava’s face at the perfect angle as she looks at Sara, who doesn’t think she’s ever seen someone more beautiful than Ava in that moment. Her hair somehow falls perfectly on her shoulders, her blonde locks twinkling in the morning glow. Sara feels like she’s in a dream. There’s no way she, a cold and heartless killer, could have ended up spending the night with someone as amazing as Ava. But Ava’s words bring Sara back to reality, shattering the warm fuzzy feeling.

Taking a shaky breath and with creased brow, Ava starts, “I have to go. This was a mistake.” She shakes her head and pinches the bridge of her nose as if there were some way to take back her actions from the prior night. 

“A mistake?” Sara echos, her voice reflecting mostly confusion, but also a twinge of hurt. She rises from the bed to meet Ava who’s trying to make her way out of the Clocktower. 

The sight of Sara standing before her, naked, is enough to make Ava’s breath hitch as she nervously reaches for a nearby robe to give to the other woman. “Can you please put this on?” Ava asks, already tired of this conversation. When Sara narrows her eyes and doesn’t reach for the robe, Ava does her best to push aside the warm feeling that’s starting to form somewhere low in her abdomen and stave off the blush she hopes isn’t visibly forming on her cheeks. Sara’s beauty and assets were never a question mark. “Yes, a mistake,” Ava responds, the familiar intense glare returning to her eyes as she silently implores Sara to take the robe.

“Sorry for forcing you into something you didn’t want to do,” Sara spits out as she finally reaches for the robe and fastens it around her waist.

“Ugh,” Ava lets out, clearly frustrated by their current situation. Letting out another deep sigh, all Ava can respond is, “I can’t do this right now,” as she quickly runs out of the Clocktower and over to her bike, speeding across Starling City as fast as she can. She can feel tears streaming down her face as the weight of betraying the person she loves most pervades her mind.

The street for her house comes up on Ava’s right, but instead of turning she speeds past, deciding she’s not ready to head home yet. It’s still early, barely past 7, and a weekend, so, while Laurel still likely has to go into the office, Ava figures she may have some time before she needs to be home in order to see her wife. She continues speeding past stop signs and red lights as she makes her way to a secluded beach a few miles from their home. After parking her bike and taking off her helmet and boots, Ava races down the sand to stand in the shallows of the waves, feeling the coolness of the ocean bring a chill to her soul, which feels like it could explode at any minute.

Ava has never been more thankful to be alone in her entire life as she shrugs off her leather jacket and shirt, feeling that she’s covered in dirt and shame from her betrayal the prior night. She lets out a piercing, heart breaking scream as she flings the repulsive articles of clothing into the sand. Crumpling to her knees in the shallow water, Ava continues to let out scream after scream as she tries to make sense of the confusion in her mind. 

She never once questioned her feelings for Laurel. She knew she loved her from the moment they first met, and the two had enjoyed a happy courtship and marriage. But something changed when her mother died. Ava no longer felt like she knew what Laurel was thinking or what the best thing to say or do to cheer her up was. And then, Sara came along. Perfect... mysterious... dangerous... uncompromising... perfect Sara. She didn’t expect things from Ava the way everyone else in her life seemed to. Sara didn’t need her. But she wanted her, and that was something Ava found sexy as hell.

Ava doesn’t know how long she spends on the beach, but it’s not until her voice goes raspy with exertion that she finally stops screaming and stands up, going to retrieve her discarded shirt and jacket. Taking a deep breath and wiping the last tears from her eyes, Ava slides her helmet on and starts up her bike. She makes a quick stop before pulling into her driveway not long after, and relief washes over her as she sees her wife’s car still parked.

Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath to steady herself, Ava opens the front door and lets out a huge smile when she sees Laurel sipping a cup of coffee as she reads the paper at their kitchen table. “I come bearing gifts!” Ava squeals excitedly as she opens the lid of her package and begins wafting the scent over to Laurel’s direction.

“Oh my gosh, I didn’t even hear you come in,” Laurel says, visibly surprised by her wife’s entrance, too caught up in whatever she was reading in the paper. Her eyes immediately go to the box in Ava’s hands as a smile creeps to her face for the first time in Ava doesn’t know how long. “Are those Nocturnal Doughnuts??!!” Laurel squeals back, dropping the paper and rushing over to Ava’s side. Ava beams at the happiness on Laurel’s face as she nods. “What’s the special occasion?” Laurel asks, suddenly very skeptical of Ava’s motives as she hesitantly reaches for a doughnut from the box.

Ava’s eyes grow wide in mock hurt as she explains, “I love you,” as she places a gentle peck on Laurel’s cheek. Laurel rolls her eyes at her wife as she takes a huge bite of the doughnut savoring the fluffy sweetness. “How’s everything going with your case?” Ava asks, hoping that doesn’t instigate another disagreement, but doing her best to show genuine concern for her wife’s work. 

Laurel lets out a satisfied sigh as she enjoys another bite of the doughnut. Ava had taken her there for their second date, after the Chinese place on the night they met, and the two had regarded it as their favorite cheat breakfast for special occasions ever since. “Honestly, it’s rough,” Laurel begins to explain how her case is going, happy to be able to vent a bit. “Colin’s family are all so sweet, but they are so afraid of being let down by the system, so they are trying to maintain their privacy in this crazy time.” Ava grabs one of the doughnuts and takes a seat next to her wife, tenderly rubbing her forearm to try to show a sign of support for what she can only imagine has been a difficult time for her wife. “But then there’s all of these protests, both for and against the police officers...the city was already so divided, and being in this weird mayoral election right now…” Laurel trails off as she looks at Ava, feeling like for the first time in weeks the two are actually connecting. 

Laurel is about to say something else when her phone starts buzzing. “Hello, this is--” she’s cut off by whoever is on the other end. “OK, yes, I understand...ummm, I can be there in about 30 minutes,” she says before hanging up, clearly frustrated at having to head into the office so soon. Sighing, she reluctantly lets go of Ava’s hand, “I was hoping we’d have more time to catch up this morning, but I have to head in now.” A devilish smile spreads across her face as she eyes the box of doughnuts. “Would you hate me if I took a few of these with me?”

“Not at all. That’s what I got them for,” Ava says with a forced smile, trying to hide both her relief at not having to explain what happened with Sara to Laurel just yet and her guilt about the previous night. 

Once Laurel heads out, Ava showers and changes before heading back to the Foundry. She can’t just sit alone and think with everything that’s going through her mind, and she hopes a little sparring will help her sort through everything. She makes it to Verdant quickly and heads down the stairs where she’s met by Oliver, and to her relief, no Sara. He’s making his way up the salmon ladder, and drops down to meet her once he gets to the top.

“Felicity said that you and Sara handled things last night,” Oliver comments as he grabs some water and a towel. Ava’s eyes grow wide as she stares at him, trying to figure out what he means. “With the League,” Oliver adds, confused by Ava’s non-response.

Ava tries to hide just how relieved she is that that’s what Oliver meant. “Al Ow-al’s dead,” Ava responds, matter-of-factly. “Another one of the League members too,” she adds as she shrugs off her leather jacket and ties her hair up, preparing to train.

“And the third?” Oliver asks, sensing something is a little off with his partner.

“Sara sent him back to the League. To tell them to leave her family alone,” she explains as she makes her way over to one of their weapons closets. She eyes the various bows, swords, staffs, and other assorted training materials before reaching for two wooden staffs and tossing one in Oliver’s direction. “Care to go a few rounds?” she asks with an arched eyebrow.

“Always,” Oliver agrees, walking over to meet her on their training mat. 

“How are things going with your mother’s case?” Ava asks as the two begin with a few teasing jabs with their staffs, each trying to feel out the other.

“She’s considering taking a plea deal,” Oliver says as he lets out a frustrated groan, thinking back to his earlier conversations with her and Thea. Ava twirls her staff and launches a series of quick jabs at him, but Oliver blocks her with relative ease before launching a punishing sequence of his own. Breathing hard, he continues, “Life in prison without parole.”

Ava narrows her eyes at Oliver as she tries to think through what Moira could be thinking. She deflects Oliver’s attacks, happy to have something besides the Lance sisters to capture her mind. “Why do you think she doesn’t want to continue fighting in court?”

“She said she’s not sure she can win over a jury,” Oliver responds as he twirls his staff towards Ava’s head, who manages to somersault out of the way. “But I think she’s hiding something.”

The two continue to spar for a while, neither gaining the upper hand, as was typical for them, until Oliver changes the subject back to Laurel and Sara. “Were you and Laurel able to resolve things?” he asks as he quickly twirls his staff and pivots jamming the staff behind him, surprised to hear it make contact with something other than Ava’s own staff. Ava quickly recovers from the hit to her midsection and is on the offensive against Oliver, but he easily blocks all of her attempts at his head and feet. “About why you came to find me at the mansion yesterday?” he reminds her, shaking his head confused by her reaction.

Visibly relieved at Oliver’s clarification, Ava thinks back to her night with Sara and gets so lost in her own head that she completely misses Oliver’s swipe at her feet. Her knees buckle as she lands very ungracefully on the training mat, frustrated that he used her own move against her. She lays there for a minute, trying to catch her breath as Oliver comes to stand over her. He asks, concern filling his voice, “What’s going on with you?”

“I think I need some time off from Team Arrow…” she says softly as Oliver extends a hand to help her to her feet. “Do you think you guys could make do without me for tonight?” she asks sheepishly as she goes to grab a towel to wipe the sweat off her brow, still feeling supremely embarrassed by Oliver’s ability to get the better of her.

Ava and Oliver had been working together for nearly six months, and this was the first time Ava had ever mentioned needing time off or showing any type of crack in her resolve. Her intensity and commitment were two of the things Oliver admired most about her, so the fact that she uttered those words had him more than a little concerned. 

“Take all the time you need,” he says sincerely. “The team is here for you. I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”

Ava had never heard Oliver use that tone of voice with her before. She didn’t like that he was treating her and looking at her like she was somehow broken or one of his damsels in need of his saving. But she also knew that he cared and was just doing what he thought she needed, which she was thankful for. She slowly walks over to him and throws her arms around him, holding on like her life depends on it. Taking a shaky breath, Ava whispers, “Thank you,” before letting go and grabbing her things to head home.

**Later that evening at the Foundry…**

“What’s that?” Oliver asks as Felicity brings up video footage of a rally downtown.

“Blood’s holding a rally to push for justice for Colin Reid’s family,” Felicity explains as she brings up the feed on her monitor so the team can see. “Many have been speculating he’s planning to launch his mayoral bid tonight.”

“Any signs of counter protesters?” Oliver asks.

Felicity taps away on her keyboard, scanning nearby cameras for any signs of trouble. The team was honestly a little relieved to be dealing with Starling City’s run of the mill domestic terrorism as opposed to the highly trained League of Assassins members. “Oof, confederate flags. Tiki torches. Long guns. Looks like they’re out in force tonight,” Felicity explains, a slight chill running up her spine as she pulls up a few shots of mostly young white men approaching the Blood rally.

“Send me those coordinates?” Oliver asks Felicity as he reaches for his bow and quiver. Turning to face Diggle and Sara, “I’ll rendezvous with you two when we get there.”

“Wait, what about Ava?” Felicity asks as the three turn to head out. 

Sara looks expectantly at Oliver, not sure what she’s hoping he’ll say. She hadn’t spoken to Ava since their uncomfortable encounter that morning, and as much as she hated to admit it to herself, she misses the other woman. She knows what they did will hurt her sister immensely, but she doesn’t share Ava’s opinion that it was a mistake. If anything it was like a dream; a dream Sara wanted to have over and over again. Oliver’s response shakes her out of her thoughts of the two of them twisting in Sara’s bed sheets.

“She’s...taking the night off,” Oliver explains, like they’re all waiters at the local dive bar, before heading out. 

“Oh, we get nights off now?” Felicity mutters under her breath as she watches the trio leave.

Upon arrival downtown the team is met with applause and anticipation of Blood’s speech. 

“Sebastian!! Woo!!” chants can be heard from the crowd as the trio tentatively approach the scene.

“Please, please. You’re the ones who deserve an ovation,” Blood tells the expectant crowd. “6 months ago, this city survived a devastating attack. This city has not stopped facing devastating attacks since then!” he yells and is met with an equally booming response from the crowd. He continues, “But we rose up. You rose up! And banded together just like we are doing tonight, and just as we will do every night, until those responsible for bringing these heinous attacks on our city are brought to justice!” The crowd booms, hanging on his every word. “And that is why I am officially declaring my bid to be the next mayor of Starling City, right here, right now.”

The crowd erupts in cheers as the counter protesters make their way closer. One reaches for his gun and starts firing at the crowd. Oliver instinctively engages the man, tearing his gun away, quickly deconstructing it. “Spartan, you and Canary take down these others!” He instructs his team. 

Chaos ensues as some of the crowd scatters and some go to meet the counter protesters. The police arrive and start arresting protesters and counter protesters alike. Out of nowhere an unmarked white van drives up onto one of the sidewalks, heading straight for a mass of protesters. Oliver quickly shoots two arrows at the tires while Diggle and Sara do their best to make sure everyone is out of the van’s path.

Sara feels like she’s having an out of body experience. She’s spending her night in much the same way she has nearly each of the previous ones over the past few weeks since she’s been home -- defending her city from the forces who would do it harm. But it doesn’t have the same excitement, the same feeling that she’s where she’s supposed to be...without Ava there by her side. Lost in her own messy head, Sara loses track of her surroundings, including one of the counter protesters who now has her in his sights. She doesn’t realize a young man is approaching her, his knife drawn, until Oliver tackles him, milliseconds before the man could’ve plunged his dagger into her heart.

A breathless Oliver looks up at Sara, trying to figure out what she could possibly be thinking. Not seeing anymore counter protesters around them who pose an imminent threat, he drags her back behind the nearest building, out of sight from everyone, before disconnecting their comms. “You want to tell me what the hell happened back there?” he asks, his Arrow voice colder than Sara remembers.

Sara swallows a large gulp, before taking a deep breath. “It’s time for me to leave Starling City,” she responds, her voice low and serious, yet Oliver can sense the hesitation and conflict she’s trying to suppress.

“Sara--” Oliver attempts to interject, but she cuts him off. 

“The League knows I’m here. It’s only a matter of time before more of them come back for me.” She can feel a tear falling below her mask and quickly wipes it away with her gloved hand. “I don’t want my father or Laurel to get hurt because I was too selfish to leave.”

As Sara begins to turn around to leave, Oliver explains, “Sara, I know what it’s like...trying to resume some semblance of a life when the old you has been gone for so long. But what we’re doing here is so important. We’re fighting to bring real change to the city we both care about.” Oliver’s voice has softened considerably, but Sara still remains with her back to him. “This team needs you. I need you,” he pleads, but still receives no reaction from Sara. After several beats pass with no response, he turns to head back to meet up with Diggle. Once she’s sure Oliver is gone, Sara runs off toward her motorcycle.

**Later that night at the waterfront...**

Sara parks her bike on one of the side streets and makes her way down to the waterfront. She’s swapped her Canary outfit for her leather jacket and jeans, and she zips up her jacket as a gust of wind sends a chill up her spine. It’s a cool night in Starling City, and as the ocean comes faintly into view, she can see that the waves mirror her own feelings. She closes her eyes and inhales the salty air, trying to push aside her memories of _The Gambit_ going down. Despite her less than stellar track record with the sea, it still brings her a sense of calm, which she desperately needs at this moment.

“Are you following me, Lance?” comes an accusatory, yet slightly playful voice, seemingly out of nowhere, from a shocked Sara’s left. She takes a deep breath before turning to face Ava, who’s leaning on the railing no more than a few yards away, her head buried in her hands. Once she gets over the initial shock of not being alone, Sara cautiously steps closer to the other woman, feeling more confused than ever about where they stand.

“How did you..?” Sara trails off, confused how Ava knew it was her.

“You have the smallest stride in the city,” Ava responds with a half-hearted laugh. She slowly lowers her hands before turning to face Sara. Even though the sun set hours ago, Sara can make out Ava’s features perfectly, wanting nothing more than to wrap her arms around the other woman and never let go. “I’m sorry,” Ava whispers as she wipes a stray tear from her face. When Sara doesn’t immediately respond, Ava feels the need to explain further, “It wasn’t a mistake. I made a choice, and I have to live with it.”

“Did you talk to Laurel?” Sara asks, unsure of what to say or what she hopes Ava’s response is. She doesn’t want to hurt her sister any more than she already has, but she also can’t ignore her feelings for Ava. When she was with Oliver on _The Gambit_ all of those years ago, it wasn’t about their connection or the need to be close to him. It was about having fun and putting off growing up and having to make tough decisions. 

Ava sniffles. “No. I was trying to work up the courage this morning, but she had to go into the office,” she explains. Sara instinctively reaches for Ava’s hand. She must’ve unconsciously closed the gap between them as they’re now standing only inches apart. The icy coolness of Ava’s hand draw’s Sara’s attention to the fact that Ava is wearing only a t-shirt and must be freezing. “Will you hold me?” Ava asks.

Sara’s not sure if Ava has ever sounded smaller as her usual confidence and intensity are gone. Finally given permission to do what she’s been craving since she woke up that morning, Sara wraps her arms around Ava, hoping to spread her warmth to the other woman as the two stare out at the crashing waves. Ava closes her eyes as she melts into Sara’s strong embrace, never wanting the moment to end.


	7. Clandestine Meetings and Stolen Stares

“I’m starving! Where are we going?” Laurel asks as she, Ava, and Quentin round the corner. They’re going out for lunch, just the three of them, for the first time in...well, ever. Laurel was able to sneak away from her case for the first time in days, so they thought they would take advantage of the opportunity.

“It’s just a little hole in the wall, right up here,” Ava explains as she gestures for the other two to follow her as they approach one of the nearby buildings. There’s an awkward quietness to both her and Quentin, but they do their best to push past it, hoping it escapes Laurel’s notice. As Ava opens the door to allow Laurel to head in first, the expression on her face immediately changes as the realization that her wife and father have lied to her and instead brought her to a meeting dawns on her.

Feeling the eyes of everyone in the room suddenly staring at her, Laurel lets out an involuntary chuckle at her gullibility before turning to head right back out the door. “Laurel, wait,” Quentin pleads as he grabs her arm to prevent her from leaving. 

“Don’t touch me,” Laurel spits back at him, shrugging out of his grasp and heading back outside. A frustrated Quentin and Ava close the door and turn back to the street to catch up with Laurel. “I can’t believe you two would do something like this,” Laurel fumes as she continues to walk away from them. 

“Well, you wouldn’t have come otherwise,” a frustrated Quentin lets out. 

“You got that right,” Laurel throws back angrily.

“Laurel, you need help,” Ava offers, trying to get through to her wife.

“Not from them,” Laurel begins to explain, getting more agitated. “There is not one person in that room who knows what I have been through.”

“Yea, you’re right,” Quentin replies, trying to keep his voice calm. “Some of them have been through worse. But for better or worse, everyone in that room needs to be there, and  _ you _ need to be there,” he pleads with his daughter to get the help she needs. Laurel shakes her head at him as he continues. “You think you’re the only person that’s ever lost someone? Who ever got their life into a mess? You think again, kiddo, cause you’re not.”

“Laurel, we’re here now,” Ava tries, reaching for her wife’s hand to give it a comforting squeeze. “Why don’t you just stay for a bit? You don’t have to share or talk. Just listen?”

For a brief moment there’s a pause, and Quentin and Ava think they might have gotten through to Laurel. But then she explains, “I thought I made myself clear. I’m hungry. And now I think I’ll eat alone.” All Ava can do is watch as her wife walks off, feeling the distance between them wider than ever before.

**At the Foundry…**

A frustrated Ava makes her way down the stairs as she slams her helmet down on one of the tables. She’s not sure what she was hoping for with her and Quentin’s stunt earlier, but she was optimistic they could at least make some progress with Laurel. Ignoring her drinking problem would only exacerbate everything else that was going on in their lives.

“Easy tiger,” Sara says as she drops from the top rung on the salmon ladder, landing gracefully on the training mat behind Ava. The noise startles Ava, who didn’t realize she wasn’t alone. The sight of Sara, her bare abs glistening with a fresh sheen of sweat, instantly reignites Ava’s feelings from the night they slept together, and she mentally berates herself for not being able to resist the other woman. She manages to stifle a moan that threatens to escape her lips and instead reaches for a couple of wooden staffs, tossing one to Sara.

Sara raises her left eyebrow as she catches the staff. She twirls it as she sizes up Ava, enjoying the thought of the other woman checking her out. Ava narrows her eyes at Sara, trying to decide between wiping the cocky smirk off the other woman’s face or tearing what was left of Sara’s clothes off and taking her on the floor of the Foundry. Shaking the thought from her head, Ava charges at Sara and launches a series of swipes at her head, which Sara blocks easily. 

“Woah, Sharpe,” Sara says between blocks. “I thought we reached some sort of understanding last night...by the water.”

Ava doubles down and takes a swipe at Sara’s legs with her staff. Again Sara blocks her, but Ava uses her momentum against her and flips Sara onto her back. Breathing deeply, Ava explains, “One conversation doesn’t erase the fact that I betrayed Laurel.”

Sara quickly flips up from the floor and resumes her ready stance. Now she’s the one on the offensive as she twirls her staff and makes a violent swipe towards Ava’s head. She barely moves out of the way in time as Sara’s staff shears in half from the collision with the metal column that was behind Ava. Sara uses the two halves to block Ava’s attempt at her as the two become locked in a close embrace. “Something else happened,” Sara gets out between gulping for air, the exertion from their sparring starting to tire her out. “Tell me.”

Ava takes a deep breath. “Your dad and I...we tried to get her to a meeting this morning. It didn’t work out,” Ava whispers the last part as she throws her staff down on the floor. Sara lowers her weapons as well as she leans in and places a gentle kiss on Ava’s lips. Ava reciprocates as the feeling of Sara’s lips on hers is the first thing that’s brought calm to her mind since she held her the previous night. Sara deepens the kiss as she pulls Ava’s shirt off, exposing the other woman’s toned stomach and strong back. Ava works her way down from Sara’s lips to her neck as Sara’s hands wander from Ava’s waist to under her sports bra. This time Ava doesn’t suppress the moan of pleasure that escapes her lips.

Lost in the ecstasy of the taste of each other, Sara suddenly has Ava pressed up against one of Felicity’s work stations. The sound of one of her monitors crashing to the floor startles both women, drawing their attention away from each other. Ava looks to the broken monitor at their feet, then over at Sara, wondering how she nearly let herself betray her wife again. “On a scale of one to ten, how mad do you think Felicity will be? Because I’m totally telling her it was your fault.” Sara jokes, trying to lighten what has suddenly turned into a tense mood. She flashes Ava a smile who thinks,  _ how the fuck am I supposed to resist this woman _ ?

“I have to go,” Ava says suddenly as she grabs her shirt and makes her way to the stairs.

“Ava? Ava!” Sara calls after the other woman, but she doesn’t stop as she heads for the exit.

**Later that evening…**

“Are those really egg rolls or is there a breathalyzer in there?” Laurel asks as Ava walks into the kitchen, a bag of chinese takeout in her hand.

Ava shrugs off her coat as she puts the peace offering on their table. “I’m sorry about earlier. I should’ve been honest with you about where we were going,” Ava explains as she rests her hands on her wife’s knees, trying to tear her away from her case. 

Laurel shifts the folder of papers open on her lap to the adjacent couch cushion. “I can’t believe you roped my dad into this fantasy of yours that I have a problem,” Laurel tells her. Her voice is harsh and cuts deep into Ava.

Ava bites the inside of her cheek in an attempt not to say something she knows she’ll regret later. She knows Laurel needs help, but she also knows she doesn’t have a leg to stand on when it comes to the moral high ground. Sighing, she resigns herself to trying to at least get Laurel to share a meal with her. “Babe, dinner is a peace offering. Can we just pig out on some egg rolls, fried rice, and lo mein, and forget about earlier for a little while?”

With an exaggerated eye roll Laurel puts down her pen and tablet as she joins Ava over at their kitchen table. Her stomach rumbles, indicating to both of them she made the right decision. “It does smell delicious as always,” she offers with a weak smile. 

As the two begin to dig into their dinner, Ava tries to cut into the silence with a safer topic. “How are things going with the case?” she asks softly.

“I don’t want to talk about the case,” Laurel says dismissively as she takes a bite of her eggroll.

“OK...what do you want to talk about?” Ava tries, not knowing what else to say. She hates feeling like a stranger in her own home and in her own marriage.

Laurel takes a deep breath as she considers what she’s about to say to her wife. “Does the Bureau have anything on Sebastian Blood?”

Ava nearly chokes on her bite of fried rice. She takes a sip of water as she collects herself. “Blood? Babe, what are you talking about?” she asks, more confused than ever.

“I think he’s been instigating the violence from the counter protesters in the city,” Laurel explains, like she’s describing the weather. When she’s only met with an extremely confused and skeptical look from her wife, Laurel’s defenses come back. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”

A frustrated huff escapes Ava’s lips. “It’s not that, it’s just...where are you getting this from?”

“Sebastian was the last person to see his mother alive. That isn’t a coincidence,” Laurel explains. 

“His mother?” Ava asks, confused. “I thought he was an orphan. Do you mean his aunt? Who’s had a chronic heart condition for years?”

“She told me that he’s her son, and that he killed his father,” Laurel insists.

“Babe, what?!” Ava shakes her head in disbelief that her wife would do something so reckless. “You visited her? Isn’t she in the mental ward? What makes you think you could trust anything she says?”

“He had her forcibly committed. She tells me the truth and then two days later has a heart attack. You don’t find that strange?” Laurel continues to press, sounding less and less coherent.

“OK, I’m freaking out a little bit here,” Ava starts, trying to make sense of what her wife has just told her. “You snuck in to see a woman to grill her about dirt on the guy who’s doing more for this city than anyone else and didn’t tell me? Is this part of your case? And how does this mean that Blood’s implicated in the city’s violence?”

“I didn’t realize I needed to check-in with you to get your permission anytime I wanted to talk to a suspect,” Laurel spits out as she pushes back her chair and stands. She turns to walk away, but stops when she reaches the threshold of the living room, turning back to face a stunned Ava. “How do you think he will look when, as the new mayor, he’s magically able to put down all of these counter protesters who’ve been instigating the violence and riots across the city? No one will question his authority.” And with that she leaves Ava alone, whose thoughts become consumed by how much help her wife really needs.

**Meanwhile, across town…**

“Are you really getting ice cream right now? It’s like 40 degrees,” Sara teases her father as the two walk through the park. 

“I’m a man who knows what he likes, and I like rocky road,” Quentin says with a smile as he takes a bite of his cone. 

Sara can’t help but smile at the goofiness of her father. Being away for so long, she never forgot what he sounded like or looked like, but she missed him every day. She longed for simpler times like this. Now that she actually had the chance to just talk to him again - it seemed like more than she deserved. “How’s Laurel doing?”

Quentin lets out a long, loud sigh as he brushes his hand roughly through his hair. “Not too good, sweetie. She could use her sister right about now.”

The giddy smile on Sara’s face quickly fades as his words sink in. “Dad, I can’t. I’m trying to protect you from the League. They’re still looking for me, and the longer I stay here, the more I’m putting you both in danger.”

“You’ve been here this long. There must be something that’s worth sticking around for,” Quentin replies as he takes another bite of his ice cream.

Sara lets her mind wander to Ava as she mentally agrees with him about there being a reason to stay in Starling City. “I, um, I need you to promise me something,” Sara says as she knows how her father can get.

“Anything. You know that,” he tells her earnestly.

“Go easy on Ava and the Arrow, will you?” she asks with a raised eyebrow. “They wanted to tell you, and Laurel, about me. But I made them keep my secret.”

“She put you up to this?” Quentin asks, surprised that Ava would tell Sara about their conversation from a few weeks ago.

“What? Ava? What are you talking about?” a confused Sara asks. 

Quentin sighs, running his hand through his hair again. “I uh, I might’ve chewed her out for lying to me. About you,” he admits begrudgingly. 

“Dad!” Sara scolds as she gently slaps his shoulder.

“It was back when you first told me, and I was pissed that she knew, and that she would keep that from me, not to mention Laurel,” he explains, doing his best to defend his actions. 

“She almost did tell Laurel. A couple of times,” Sara says softly, wondering why Ava didn’t mention her conversation with Quentin to her. “I’m going to tell her. I just need to figure out how.”

**Later that night…**

“Thea?” Ava asks, surprised to see the younger Queen pop up on her phone.

“Hey, Ava, I know it’s late, but would you mind swinging by Verdant? I have something of yours,” Thea explains.

“Sure, I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Ava tells her as they hang up, and she hops on her bike, wondering what on earth Thea could possibly have that belongs to her.

Not long after their phone conversation, Ava strides into Verdant and heads for Thea behind the bar. “Hey,” she says, slightly out of breath from her ride, holding her helmet on her hip.

“Hey,” Thea greets her as she hands Ava a blonde wig. Ava tentatively takes it, thinking it bears a striking resemblance to Sara’s Canary wig, but she’s confused about what it means. “Oh, sorry, there’s a note,” Thea adds as she hands the small piece of paper to Ava.

_ This wig is reserved for Agent Sharpe. _

A small smile inadvertently forms on Ava’s lips as she rubs her thumb over the handwritten message. “Thank you,” she adds to Thea before heading back to her bike. 

Before Ava has a chance to think about her next actions, she’s at the Clocktower. As she enters the main room at the top of the tower, she’s met with the perfect ending to one shitty day. The room is illuminated only by candles. Sara whirls around to face her as she hears Ava stroll in, the shorter blonde clad only in her robe as the candlelight paints a warm glow on the outline of her face. 

“I got your message,” Ava husks, holding up Sara’s wig as she makes her way across the room to stand in front of Ava. 

“Took you long enough,” Sara whispers as she pulls Ava’s leather jacket off and rushes her over to the bed.


End file.
